Love Is Blind
by SmallAssLevi
Summary: Meet Alfred and Arthur, two rivaling actors down on their luck. After a turn of events, the two are forced to fake a marriage in hopes of regaining their statuses. Will the two fall in love or will their arguing force them to reveal their little secret?
1. Stupid Brated Actor

**Disclaimer: Hetalia doesn't belong to me. I swear.**

**A/N: This fic was based off of a novel I had read a while ago and once I can remember the title, I will post it. I promise. XD**

**P.S. Sorry if they're a little OOC. I just kept thinking of the characters that were in the novel.**

**Anyways, sorry 'bout the rant! Hope you enjoy!**

The streets of Manhattan were slick with downpour, gutters greedily chugging down the filthy water as the midnight clouds flashed light incessantly just as the paparazzi that crowded around a homely coffee shop nestled between 3rd and 5th avenue did. Alfred Jones stumbled out of the bistro, only ten had been trailing him during daylight, but now there were more than twenty, pursuing him like raging hounds, cameras unsheathed, pearly teeth threatening him, ready to swallow him whole.

The flashes overwhelmed him. They began shouting over one another, asking questions to the hazy actor, their sentences mingling together, words running until the last click of their tongues signaled their defeat. One roared a question at his earlobe. "How do you feel about your fiancé cheating on you with another man?" The blood rushed from his heart to his head. He nervously smiled to no avail then allowed a frown to take its place. The bulbs fired around him and finally he shielded his navy eyes from the heat swimming around him.

The cameras caught him, stealing his murmurs and the hand over his eyes, ready to publicize his misery in every tabloid, the headlines of an actor who lost everything. The smell clogged his nose-musk, rain, black coffee. A heel landed unceremoniously on his foot, a hand pressed against his back. They were _way _too close for comfort.

Arthur Kirkland cocked an eyebrow at the nasty scene before him. He had just exited a restaurant next door when he noticed a meshed group of people stretching their hands, cameras locked. He paused from his vantage point upon the stairs. He hadn't seen Alfred Jones for many years. To say that the American had not appeared on television would be a lie, just that his maid would hurriedly switch the channel when blue eyes popped on the screen. Bitter feelings crawled up his throat in the form of bile.

The shutterbugs hadn't spotted him for they were too busy shoving lens into the other man's face. He wasn't on their radar these days, not that he minded at that moment however. Four years ago, he emerged from a sit-com called _Parting Ways. _Now a long-ended show, people still watched reruns of the famous daytime television drama. No one had forgotten it, especially when it came to World's favorite jock, Alex Cooper, in real life known as Alfred Jones.

His mouth twisted sourly as he gazed down at the man. Arthur hadn't gained any popularity throughout the show, and he was the second lead, Scott Fields! _Popularity was always your strong suit Alex; _he could hear Scott echo in his mind.To say the least, appearing on-screen with Alfred Jones meant that you would most likely not become any more famous than you had been in High School.

Suddenly, things began to turn ugly. Two reporters were now elbowing each other, trying desperately to remain front. They pulled and tugged at each other, feet scraping the ground, eyes locked in a silent duel. "Ah! Look out!" Then they bumped into a certain actor.

He teetered dangerously then pummeled and fell back on his butt, his coffee now drenched over him and the two arguing reporters. Then he noticed a man who stood thirty feet away, an amused smirk played on his lips. _Shit. Arthur-fucking-Kirkland. _He was humiliated, cheeks stained cherry red. He pleaded for his co-star to help him with puppy eyes. The other man just gazed at him wide-eyed, before scrunching up his thick wiry eyebrows. Alfred knew already that the B-rated actor wouldn't help him, but he still gave an effort. Finally, with a dangerous glare and a huff, Alfred forced his way through the hot bulbs and sweaty paparazzi.

One friend would help him through his troubles and maybe even put an end to this scandal.

-^J^-

Alfred Jones wished desperately that he could rip his hair out; yet as he tried he realized that his amber locks wouldn't appreciate it, and decided bitterly to dig his nails into the steering wheel of his vehicle. A few years back, he was the perky-faced teenager of a hit show. Now, however, he was nothing more than a gay horny teen's wall poster to jerk off to. Even when his fiancé's affair was plastered on every magazine cover and radio station, Alfred had grinned sheepishly and continued shooting photographs for the public. He had remained sane. Yet now today, his anger welled up in his insides and he had been close to snapping, which included the smashing of lens and swelling of noses. And, of all people, Arthur Kirkland had been there. He had witnessed the falter in his easy smile, something that he had not even wanted the closest of relatives to notice.

He had seen Arthur years ago, before they appeared in the same sit-com, chatting up some broad with blonde locks and instantly he felt a dislike towards him. No-not because of the damn whore hanging off him, but simply for the fact that he acted _so damn high and mighty. Stupid B-rated actors._

He smacked a hand against his steering wheel, horn blaring to signal the cross walker in front of him to speed up. She glared at him before dragging her kids away from the view of his windshield. Alfred was unconsciously driving to the Bronx to meet up with his longtime friend, Francis Bonnefoy. Francis was indescribable; his golden hair was always tied with a thick red ribbon, face showing sparkling cerulean eyes that shouted lust. He wore flashy clothes, sometimes with, dare he think it, _frills._

He shuddered when he thought of his last Christmas party. Trying desperately to sponge his innocent mind, he plucked his keys out of the ignition and pocketed them before slamming his car door shut. Regardless of his odd moments, Alfred hadn't seen him in some years and was mildly grateful to see that lecherous grin again. He tapped his knuckles on the wood of the door and stood patiently. He heard a few murmured clicks of the locks before it swung open to reveal a slightly disheveled French man.

"Get In here." Francis responded half-heartedly, unsure whether to smile at the unexpected surprise or frown at his unfinished 'business' in his bedroom. Alfred gratefully stumbled in, sighing as the secure air enveloped him. "I'll have you know the hero has been _very _stressed lately." Francis sighed in agreement, for he had been watching the news the past weeks. He immediately poured frothy soda into a wine glass, being that was all he had washed at the moment, and handed it over to the snorting American. "By the end of the day, the news will have 'Alfred F. Jones raped by erotica novelist Francis Bonnefoy', spreading the nation. You better hope they didn't follow you." Alfred snickered and watched as his friend scurried off, murmuring something along the lines of, 'I just have to clean up my bedroom, I'll be right back.'

Still confused as to why his friend had a reason to clean his bedroom, he glanced at himself in the mirror. He didn't look distraught, per say, just really worn out. Large black pupils and deep blue irises stared back at him. He had golden skin and grain-colored hair that sat flat minus the stubborn hair near his forehead, which perked out wistfully. "Dude," he said to himself, "you look like shit. 'Specially your clothes." He glanced down at his muscular build and found that he still donned a coal-black casual suit that he had been _forced _to wear. _Damn to those commercials about looking 'right' for all the right reasons._

Francis returned shortly after to scrub his hands clean. He motioned for the puzzled American to follow him before clicking his TV off and strutting lazily outside onto the wooden platform that hung over the gurgling sea. "I heard about your fiancé." Alfred grew stiff, the skin of his knuckles stretched and white. "Y-yeah?" He couldn't keep the stutter out of his voice, even if he tried. "Yes. Alfred, you need to show these gossip queens that you can feel l'amour. Why not find someone to offset this depression your heart is going through?" Alfred shot a heated glare at him that said, '_This is real life, you damn horny novelist'. _Francis snickered and wrapped a thin arm around his friend's shoulders. "Don't worry. I know how awkward you get around new women. It's understandable. But you need a new woman!" Francis cooed, now lightly squeezing his shoulder.

"Dude, are you hitting on me? I'm getting the creeps." Alfred half-heartedly smacked at his hand and shoved it off. "Oh, woe is me, you have caught my advances." Alfred grinned wildly and stepped away from him, knowing that if he did not blatantly deny the French man offers, he would be attacked without mercy. _In only a way the French can._ He added in his thoughts.

Francis snagged their cups up and retreated to his backdoor to put them away. Alfred relaxed and allowed his thoughts to carry him away. He choked back a cough. Him and Ally York (His ex-girlfriend and former fiancé) had been the ideal couple, a hero and heroine. She had been the Mary Jane to his Spiderman or the Catwoman to his Batman. They could have fought crime together in sleek black suits and marveled over the simplicity of Joker's schemes. "But," Alfred whispered to himself, "I don't wanna Catwoman, I want a Robin." He stretched his jaw and yawned, ruffling his feathery hair. Ally had left him, cheated on him, for some secretive man in his forties. The thought disgusted him, but soon he decided that she wasn't worth his time anyways. All of the Catwoman's were going to leave him, he expected that, which is why he yearned for someone as trusty as Robin, a side-kick who will never leave his side.

Ally had told the media that Alfred was _'too busy getting drunk with his buddies' _to take time out of his day to care for her. When the journalists had asked him for a response he left with a mere, _'She's a grown woman and can take care of herself if need be.' _Easy to say that that wasn't the correct thing to say at that moment and ever since Alfred and his fiancé had been playing rumor tag.

"Le bar is officially open." Alfred whirled around and took the frosty margarita from him, even though he promised himself he would never drink a woman's drink. Francis set his beverage on the off-white patio table and smirked at the tumbling waves. "We finished _Love Again_. Didn't even hit the theaters, can you believe that?" He couldn't afford another box-office failure and unconsciously he sipped at the alcohol. "Boss is really upset about the vacation I'm takin'. I tried to tell him with my awesome heroic voice that I'd be back soon but he didn't buy it." Francis sank into the plush velvet chair and his smooth French accent played in the wind. "Mister Vargas? (A/N: Romano/ South Italy) Yeah, he's quite ze character, barking an order at everyone iz quite humorous, non?" Alfred beamed and craned his neck to the side, humming in agreement. "Hear any good gossip lately?" He asked, for he knew the rant that his friend would babble on would send him into a fury of giggles. "My novel iz getting more dramatic. Next time I write about two men fighting over a woman only to fall in love, remind me zat zeir arguing will only strain my nerves."

"I wonder if I could find 'The One'. Then I can stop this crazy fiasco with my ex-girlfriend." Alfred pondered, now chugging his icy margarita down greedily. "Well," Francis responded, "I'm not going to marry you." "Same goes for me." A light horrifyingly familiar British accent drawled behind him, "I'd rather ban bitter from my house." Alfred's face contorted into pure fury, his forehead wrinkled and eyes once baby blue became cloudy grey. "Oh, hey dude, what're you doing here? It's been a few years." Alfred had maintained a relatively friendly atmosphere with all those outside of his immediate family, and he wasn't going to start now with the bitterness. "If you are wondering if I was eavesdropping," He paused, "I wasn't. Merely stopping by to greet my new neighbor." _What a liar ._Alfred thought, _how stupid does this guy think I am? _Francis started chatting up Arthur, who was dismissing him with a glare.

Alfred knew he didn't like Arthur, yet he didn't know _why_ he felt a need to grate on the other's nerves. _It's not his looks. _Alfred gazed at British man through narrowed eyes. He really wasn't that attractive, with bushy eyebrows that swallowed up his forehead, sharp green eyes flecked with gold, and unkempt sandy blonde hair that begged desperately for a comb. _And his outfits are gay. _A forest green vest and brown slacks. _B-O-R-I-N-G. And he doesn't even have a good personality. _Arthur was known for always having a deep frown on his face, which perfectly complimented his eyebrows for all the wrong reasons. He isn't biased, he treated everyone like shit. _Dammit. I hate him but he's cute looking-_America grimaced at his thought-_in that drowned cat you pity because it's so ugly way._

He needed to get out of here. He glanced over at the glass panes of the sliding doors, yet the small shred of pride forced his feet to stay planted. Trying to ignore the small steps of feet coming closer to him, he gazed over the private beach; photographers wouldn't come to this beach, right? He turned around from the ledge when he heard a slow pronounced statement ring in his ear. "Wha-?"

"I heard about your wife." Arthur clipped each syllable. "Fiancé, dummy," Alfred corrected, before choosing to ignore him. "You both looked so-content at the last outing. I'm guessing-She couldn't handle a bloke like you?" Alfred knew not to react to his taunting, or he would continue. "You know, in _Parting Ways_, that git of a director wanted our characters to fall in love because of something that happened one time in their pasts. Good thing they pulled the plug on that idea, or else we would have to shag one another every fucking episode, not sure I could stand you snapping me in two." After months of torture, Alfred had enough of the shit everyone insisted on throwing at him, and replied bitterly, "You would probably enjoy it, every second of it." Arthur grimaced, obviously not expecting the sharp reply he was given. "Alfred, ignore him," Francis chimed in, "Just go relax in my-study, do not go in ze bedroom, understood?" Alfred raised an eyebrow, then shrugged his shoulders and sauntered back into the house.

-^J^-

By the time Alfred reached the small city of Newark, near the border of Canada, he was stiff and achy. He ignored the hushed clicks of cameras behind the hedges on the road and swiveled into a cobble driveway that curled into a homely ranch nestled between masses of trees, hidden from view by the road. He had been kicked out of his former apartment, _Courtesy of his lovely former fiancé, _he added bitterly in his thoughts, and now was stuck in a rental home with low roofs and wooden beds adorned by red plaid comforters.

After lugging his bags into the wooden cabin, he swung open a bedroom window and whipped out his cellphone to check his voicemails.

"Alfred-san, I know you're hav-"

_Delete_

"Yo! Alfred, don't listen to those bitchy unawesome-"

_Delete_

"_Mi amigo, _are you well? Whoosh, I saw the tele-"

_Delete_

Alfred loved his friends dearly; however he knew that a hero didn't accept sympathy. After all, the hero was the one to cradle the newborn orphan in his arms and gaze somberly at it, not the man who had just gotten laser-beamed.

"Alfred," his mother's breathy voice echoed through the phone, "I need to speak with you. Call me as soon as possible, okay?" Alfred didn't speak much to his mother these days, after the scandal he had hardly recognized that he even had her support. "I saw a photograph-" He deleted the message and leafed through the others until he made it to a name he recognized all too well. "Alfred, I'm sorry about the photograph and I," she began, "I didn't mean to leave you. I know that it was wrong and I'm so sorry, Alfred please-," she begged. He listened to her message from beginning to end, sniffing up his anger and sadness. Not even Ally could act out such sadness; she truly wanted to be forgiven. Alfred however, could care less about her well-being as he had stated many times before. The one thing he wanted more than anything else was-revenge.

"Would a hero do something like that? Protect his pride?" He questioned to himself, plopping his butt on the bed and absently rubbing his fingers over the blonde stubble that had formed over his chin. "Fuck, I dunno." He slurred, slamming his back to the mattress wearily, "Damn, I could use some sleep." He forced out softly, his eyes blinking rapidly before succumbing to a welcoming darkness.

-^J^-

The next day Alfred sat serenely in a tearoom, his eyes half-massed and fingers smoothing out his unmanageable locks. He was waiting for his surprise date to show up, one that he begrudgingly agreed to, if only that agreement being because Francis forced him. He faintly noticed the cream of the walls and the red tablecloths as he swirled his milky coffee with his finger. He popped said finger into his mouth, testing the heat of his coffee, then began to sip at it thoughtfully. The plan was simple. The tabloids would find him with a smart, attractive woman and start a rumor of a 'budding love'. He would be seen as a single man enjoying his single life, accompanied with many pictures of many women and himself. Afterwards, everyone would forget the little fiasco of him losing his goods. He grinned when he saw the reporters inconspicuously lined up on the other side of the bustling street, gazing at store windows or hiding behind newspapers. _How stupid do they think I am?_

Ten minutes ticked by. He dressed exactly for the occasion with dark slacks and a cloudy gray shirt with rolled up sleeves. He wore clumpy black boots and had sunglasses perched on his head. This casual demeanor was perfect for him, not overbearingly simple but not too much Hollywood.

Another three minutes. Tino spotted him and waved cheerfully. Alfred waved back, equally enthusiastic. Four years earlier, during the second season of _Parting Ways, _Tino had been a lowly assistant, but now he was head of the Finnish Studios and was one of the most powerful men in the show business. He knew Tino wouldn't make fun of him; however it was slightly un-manly of him to sit there without a woman to accompany him.

Alfred pretended not to notice the curious eyes that kept glancing his way, but he'd started to get upset. It had been another twenty minutes of being a lonely man at a tearoom, which soon would equal to a public shunning, that he flipped open his cell from under the tablecloth and skimmed his messages. _What the hell? No text?_

Across the patio, a group of giggling red-eared women gathered for lunch. The girls were famous for being _yaoi _writers. Alfred had never known exactly what _yaoi _was, but often he was offered a role to appear in a movie of that sort. Their leader suddenly hopped out of her chair and glided over to Alfred, who by now could only act preoccupied.

"Hi. I'm Elizaveta! (A/N: Hungary) I write manga for a living." She clasped her hands in front of her and smiled warmly at him. "I just wanted to say that I loved you in _Parting Ways, _Alex Cooper was definitely every woman's dream. Too bad they chose not to include the romance between him and Scott Fields, I would have loved that!" Alfred cringed, she was a kind girl, but the way her sharp green eyes sparked at that thought scared him. "Uh-huh. I agree." She nodded wildly and hastily invited him to eat lunch with them. "Seeing as how you are sitting alone," she added with a wink. He quickly composed himself. "I'm good. The chick couldn't decide what to wear, so she's runnin' a bit late. At least she cares," he lied, fingering his silver watch in nervousness. "Maybe you need a-," she started, holding out the last letter for him to answer. "Robin? Yeah, I know I do." She grinned from ear-to-ear, obviously understanding something he had yet to comprehend. "Hm, I see. Ta-ta for now, Alfred." She waved and hurried back to her seat.

"Why is it the weirdos who always hang around me?" he murmured into the palm of his hand. He had yet to see his date, and seeing as how there were many woman (and men) that would kill to be eating lunch with him, he had yet to understand why this particular woman hadn't arrived. Alfred's server popped up around that time. "Would you like anything else, Mister Alfred?" _Why do people always call me that? It makes me feel old, _he whined in his head. "Uh," he stammered, "another coffee, please." The server disappeared back into the kitchen. Alfred twisted his wrist to glance at his watch. He couldn't put it off. He needed to pretend to get a phone call.

Alfred scrolled through his phone and began booming a ringtone. Then, after a few seconds, gradually lifted the cell to his ear and began having a conversation with himself. "How's it going, dude? Yeah I'm good. No problem. What? She had an accident, oh my goodness. Is she okay?" He spent a few minutes talking loudly through his shell of a mobile, when he felt a sudden surge of electricity shoot through his veins and his spine shiver. He looked up and froze. Arthur Kirkland had just entered the tearoom.

**Read and review, please! I love reviews, they just make me so *Cue crying* happy!**


	2. Mr Vargas is quite the businessman

**A/N: I love how I can write America's dialogue like I'm speaking and it sound moderately like him! England...he's another story. ;_; I try.**

**I want to give special thanks to _Person_ (Love the name.), _Mizuki06_, and _Flywithme208 for reviewing._**

**So...*bows* thank you.**

**And thanks to all those who favorited/alerted my story, I appreciate it!**

**And...Action!**

-^J^-

Heads swerved from him to Arthur, eyes bulging out with pursed lips. Arthur was dressed in skinny dark jeans and a forest green sweater, matched with brown dress shoes. The world froze when Arthur began walking towards the corner of the tearoom, exactly where Alfred sat. Car brakes squealed as the paparazzi scurried across the street to capture a photo that would shock all of America-hell, even the whole world. They could hardly imagine a photo of two men, who blatantly despised one another and not even seen together for years, eating lunch together. Arthur leaned down and brushed his lips against Alfred's in greeting. Few words could cross through Alfred's mind at that moment. _Mind-fucked, oh my god, gay! Gay! _"I'm afraid she couldn't make it, so she gave me a ring to take her place."

Finally, Alfred lowered his voice and whispered, "What? How the hell is this any better than sitting alone?" Arthur glared at him briefly, then cracked the widest-_god, was it creepy_-smile at him. Alfred in turn forced out a hearty laugh, knowing the cameras were directed right on their faces. "Francis told me to come actually, normally I wouldn't dare listen to that frog, but seeing as how you would be painfully lonely, I chose to eat lunch with you." Alfred was quick with a reply, "Oh, I'm _positive _that's the reason you came. Because you care." He resisted the urge to roll his navy blue eyes and instead rested his elbows on the table, still grinning. Arthur merely shrugged in response. "Okay then dude, why are you half an hour late? Scones and tea and being on time. Isn't that what British people are all about?" He gazed affectionately at Arthur. _God, I'm so grossed out, this is a man, whom I hate, and I'm stuck having tea with him, _Alfred thought. "Grease and tans and idiocy. I believe that is what all Americans are, yes?" Alfred ignored him as he could sense the sarcasm dripping like honey from his voice, and in turn clapped a hand over Arthur's, which delightfully elicited a jerk and blush that covered his cheeks. Then a harsh glare that was not caught on the cameras.

The photographers were eating up this newfound affection. And would've burst into the room had it not been for the server frighteningly tip-toeing over to them. Alfred knew that within minutes their photographs would be aired across the media. "I hate you." Alfred whispered, crinkling his eyes at the small statured British man while pulling his hand away. As he tried to rub the pain from his clammy palm however, Arthur reached out and took Alfred's hand again, slowly stroking his thumb gently over Alfred's knuckles. He was taunting him. "The feeling is mutual." Okay, so that wasn't very cool, what reason did Arthur have to hate him? Alfred was one of the greatest actors in the world, not to mention a hero of mankind, only a-villain could hate him. It made perfect sense to Alfred now, Arthur had always been trying to change the script or do something to make the plot _better. _And even then, a disturbing tape had arisen from the depths of hell and planted its face on every magazine cover. Only the dastardly villain would purposely release such a video so violent that _Parting Ways _had been canceled three weeks later.

Alfred gazed somberly at his watch and sighed as if he had dropped his burger, then turned back to Arthur. "Sorry dude, I gotta go." He stood up to leave only to be dragged back down by the hand that still held his firmly. "Not yet. Let the photographers finish their business." Alfred cocked an eyebrow at him, "How 'bout not? I mean-," That lightning between them thickened and quietly, so as to not alarm the others, they began arguing.

"I can't be seen with such a _violent _person, I'm sure you understand, right?"

"My apologies, I had no idea that such a _heroic _lad was scared."

"Take that back!"

"Take back your insult first."

"Nuh-uh. It's true."

"'Nuh-uh' is not a word, you git!"

"Is too."

"Is that right? Well, you see in my country, we speak English. I'm positive that's why I have yet to hear that word. Obviously not because your illiterate."

So absorbed in their arguing they didn't notice Mathias (A/N: Denmark), a long-time Olympic runner, sashaying towards them, a wide grin plastered on his face, blonde hair combed up in the middle, wearing a dark wine colored jacket. Arthur immediately shot to his feet to greet Mathias, horrified as to why he was here with them. "It's nice to see you, Mathias. Have you been well?" Mathias rolled his shoulders in response and smirked. "I can't believe you guys are sitting at a table together without loaded guns." Alfred snorted and retorted simply, "Arthur's probably shoved his up his ass. Wouldn't surprise me." Arthur huffed and tugged on Alfred's stubborn hair, after all, what looked like affection on the outside was really pure torture to those involved. "Oh, you are mistaken, Mr. Mathias. That is all water under the bridge, as Americans would put it." Mathias flicked invisible dust off his jacket. "Yeah?" He then gazed at Arthur with a toothy grin. "Then you better take good care of Alfred, alright? I don't want to have to give you a runner's kick in the ass." With a two-fingered salute, he strutted over to Elizaveta.

Before Arthur could comment on the fact that Mathias and Alfred were the best of friends, Alfred had already left the tearoom, leaving the Brit alone with his thoughts.

-^J^-

It was a cloudy Saturday morning when Alfred parked into the parking garage of his studio. The concrete walls were being showered with rain, the sounds echoing off the roofs and humming its way through the building. "This isn't England," he whined to the rain, "Stop coming down rain, you're makin' me depressed." His boss's secretary (and Alfred's longtime friend), Antonio, had called to set up an appointment with Alfred and his Rumor Boomer, Feliks. Rumor Boomers, so graciously given a name by Antonio, are needed for the times when actors and actresses are handling the stress of tabloids. To say the least, Alfred's Rumor Boomer, Feliks, was _damn _good at spreading ego-feeding gossip.

Alfred smashed a thumb against the up arrow of the elevator and leaned against the metal bar, mindlessly gazing at the burgundy wall. Without warning, he could feel his mind begin to slip again into a repeat of senses-Arthur's lips brushing his, Arthur's hand touching his, Arthur's forefinger sweeping across his stubborn hair-rinse and repeat. He grimaced at his thoughts and combed his fingers through his hair, nostrils flared and eyes half-massed. Suddenly, the elevator churned to a stop and the doors slip open with a ding.

Yesterday, after Alfred had _eaten lunch_ with Arthur, he dashed his way to the nearest bar and prepared his brain for one hell of a hangover. He could scarcely remember his drunken outing, only knowing that when he awoke this morning, he was safely on his couch and still wearing his clothes, which was all that mattered to him in the first place. Later, after a pot of black coffee, he had gotten a phone call from Antonio and now, with a short shower and a splitting hangover, Alfred made his way to the conference room.

-^J^-

Arthur sat bitterly on a side of the conference table; butt plopped in a plastic black chair and eyes sweeping across to look at the others who resided with him. A man named Lovino Vargas stood at one end of the glossy table; palms rested on his hips and mulled brown eyes glaring at his secretary, Antonio, who sat opposite of Arthur. Then next to Antonio, was _the git, _with his honey-colored hair and sky blue eyes, glasses askew from a drunken sleep. Muscles peeked through his faintly see-through button up shirt, shadows touching every curve of his biceps and forearms. Arthur choked back a blush when he caught Alfred staring back at him with a blank look. Arthur glanced down at his hand, Alfred was holding anothermug of cheap grainy coffee, his fingers limp around the cup. Directing his attention away, Arthur craned his neck to the side and found that someone had entered into the bitter atmosphere. His eyes widened momentarily at the red headed man slugging his way into the room.

"B-brother?" Arthur stuttered, fingernails digging into his chair. Scott (A/N: Scotland) raised an uninterested eyebrow at his brother, then yanked out a seat next to him and scooted into it comfortably. "Hey, right now I'm your Rumor Boomer, remember? Call me as such." Arthur knew _very _well that his brother was his Rumor Boomer for many of his drinking parties were posted online. Along with anyone he had ever kissed, not that anyone cared though, he wasn't popular. Mr. Vargas bellowed a 'Hey!' to the people of the room, distracting Arthur from his thoughts, then proceeded to cross his arms. "I told you all to come because two _certain _actors suck at their jobs. So, I have an idea that not only would get back at that potato bastard that took Jones woman but also fix his scandal and gain an assload of popularity for Kirkland. Hum. Anyways, let Feliks and Scott explain it to you two idiots."

While Arthur did not enjoy being called an idiot (much less along with that git), he was curious about this great plan that would gain him popularity. He turned to his brother and the scantily clad wom-er _man_. "Okay, so like you two are totally gonna get tied at the hip if you know what I'm saying. Then the papas are gonna see you and be like, 'oh my god! Like look at those two, their totally in love, how romantic!' and then the people will totally start begging at your knees, you get what I'm saying right?" Alfred shattered his mug with his hand (Arthur already knew he was insanely strong) causing Feliks and Arthur to jump wildly, eyes bulging out as if he understood what the fast speaking Polish man was saying. "Exactly what did he mean? I'm afraid I have yet to understand," Arthur told his brother with a sigh, however Scott was far too busy grinning at Alfred's shocking display. "No. Hell no, man. That's sick! Isn't there another way dude?" Arthur was getting irritated by the lack of response and forcefully slapped his palms onto the table and glared at the wide-eyed men around him. "I demand an answer!" Alfred sighed then clapped rough hands onto Arthur's shoulders. "It's not gonna happen anyways, so I guess I could tell you. They," he paused to flash his Hollywood smile, "They want us to get married." Arthur blinked in confusion, patiently waiting for his brain's comprehension. Apparently, Alfred noticed this and raised his hands in defense, backing away slowly. _They want us to get-__**married. **_That single phrase played in his thoughts, over and over, dissecting and reforming until all that was understandable was two short words. "Us," he uttered, standing up out of his seat, "_married." _His thoughts were muddled and racing, face heating up into a flurry of rage. Arthur suddenly felt the urge to hit something. Eager to accomplish this, he hopped over the table and hurdled into Alfred, head ramming against Alfred's stomach. "Wha-?"

Alfred felt jolts of pain shiver up his arms, face contorting into pain and body throbbing. "Ge' offa me!" He wailed, his bottom lip already forming a bloody bruise. After a few seconds of continuous agony, he pushed the frail body off of him. "What de hell? Dude, control yur bidchness. I khant deal wif dis right now." Arthur snorted and waved his hands around. "I'm a gentleman. This 'bitchness' as you call it, I do not have." Alfred gave him a deadpan look that said, 'Gentleman don't jump people'. Arthur, being the gentleman he is, resisted the urge to attack him. "Idiotas," Mr. Vargas intervened, "One, my building isn't a whorehouse so stop with the damn wussy fights, comprende? Two, you _will _be getting married tomorrow. And three, the two of you are _almost_ as annoying as that potato bastard mio fratello ran off with." Alfred and Arthur stared at him with disinterest, rebellion swimming in their eyes. "Listen," Mr. Vargas stated, fingers tapping against the sleeves of his coat, "Jones, I will make sure that you be first in line for the villain role for the next few years." Alfred made a choking noise, _not be the hero or marry Arthur? Damn, tough choice. _"And you Arthur," Mr. Vargas continued, "Will be stationed to make food at a soup kitchen." Arthur raised an eyebrow and replied, "That doesn't sound too bad." Mr. Vargas held up a finger with an 'tsk' , a vicious grin pooling onto his face. "_In France."_ Arthur shuddered, the thought of cooking food for those perverted picky eaters gnawing at his mind.

"So, your choice?" Alfred was about to retort with an explanation of his hero needs, when Arthur opened his mouth. "Fine." Alfred sputtered and turned to slap Arthur back to consciousness when Mr. Vargas replied, "Good." Mr. Vargas and Antonio left the room, preparing for the tiring work that was sure to follow their bickering. The Rumor Boomers waved bye to them before discussing the best methods to spread the secrets and leaving the room. "Going to that god forsaken country is not on my agenda and I have no intention of dealing with those people. I hate you, you hate me. But in these circumstances," he sighed, "we have to deal with one another." Alfred's bottom lip jutted out, his doe-eyes mirroring sadness. "Fine, but I get to be the groom."

"As if, you arse!"

-^J^-

**Did you like it? Hate it? Review please! I love your love~!**


	3. Acting out of hatred

A/N: I had extreme writers block, so sorry I couldn't write much! (I rewrote the beginning several times)

Thanks to **Blind Squirrel**, **hexa**, **baconis1priority**, **ThePirateMage**, and **Miss Know-all **for reviewing!

I really appreciate it!

And thanks to everyone who favorited/Alerted my story!

**Warning: **This has not been checked, so there will probably be a few errors. Sorry!

Anyways…

Enjoy!

-^J^-

The first thing to arouse Arthur from his deep chambered sleep was the crisp sheets of a bed crunching under his weight and the pops of humorously tumultuous voices tickling his ears. "Mornin' sleeping beauty," a strong throat drawled behind him. "Huh?" Arthur rolled onto his back, the slight creak of the springs piercing his ears. A thick muscled man stood over him with a coffee cup held up to his lips. "What the bloody hell are you doing here?" Arthur questioned, a solid eyebrow quirking up onto his forehead. "Don't you remember? You said, and I quote, 'I hate you, you hate me. But in these circumstances, we have to deal with one another.' Isn't that right?" Alfred licked the coffee residue off his cheek and cocked his head to the side, his glasses reflecting the soft light of the window. "This is my home. Not once had I given you any right whatsoever to intrude on my business." Arthur swallowed roughly and dug short fingernails into the bed, resisting the urge to cover himself up. "Hum. Well, I'm afraid that's not my problem now is it? If I have to deal with marrying you then you have to deal with living with me." Arthur pushed himself up and rested his back on the cold wood of the headboard. "Fine. Best you turn the cartoons off though, unless you want to anger me further." Alfred gulped down the rest of his brew and leaned over Arthur, his eyes glittering. "'Kay, boo-bear!"

Alfred hopped over toward the telly and jabbed a thumb on the power button then retreated to the foot of the bed. "Now that the T.V. is off-Get up, you sexy pirate, you!" Arthur choked back a cough, "What is going on with you today?" Alfred yanked Arthur off the cushioned bed and squeezed him tightly. "Nothin's wrong with me!" Arthur shoved his partner's cheeks together and slammed his knee into his stomach. "Hurgh." "Let me alone. I have no interest in your merrymaking. I need a shower." Alfred clutched his sides and slid to the ground. _I'm trying to get along with this asshole and he's kicking me! Honestly, I thought you were supposed to kill them with kindness._

Arthur stripped his white briefs as the water spurted to life. After checking that he had indeed brought his clothes, he stepped into the scalding water, allowing his thoughts to stray to his future. _The hill country home would be glowing in misty light with oil paintings lining the corridor and gold tulips placed in every pot. Scones would be on the kitchen table, lightly browned and set on a china plate with a lace covering them. Next to them would be a teacup and soda can, because Arthur liked their differences. Finally, Alfred would enter through the door with a soft laugh and his arms outstretched. Arthur, who had been cooking dinner, would wrap his arms around Alfred with a shy , when Arthur would attempt to go back to his baking, Alfred would lean down and place his lips on Arthur's_- And then it ended.

After scrubbing himself clean (outwardly and inwardly) Arthur slipped on his dress slacks and exited the bathroom to find Alfred face down on the carpet in his living room. The television had long been off and the curtains were closed. "What are you doing?" Arthur asked, nudging the lump of muscle on the floor with his foot. "Hafin' uh fity farty." Sighing, Arthur laid down next to Alfred and turned on his side, facing him. "I'm sorry?" Alfred lifted his head and smacked his cheek against the ground to stare at Arthur. "Having a pity party. Why? Need something?" Arthur would've slapped the man had it not been for an idea that flashed in his head. "I refuse to be the woman in the relationship. That's my first rule and I will show you how serious I am."

Then Arthur slammed his lips against Alfred's mouth, their teeth knocking together by the force. Alfred tugged back but Arthur's hands on his jaw held him in place. "Mphm." Arthur closed his eyes and ran his wet tongue across Alfred's bottom lip. The American gasped at the gesture and was met with a strong taste of tea and the smell of honey. Arthur snaked his tongue into Alfred's mouth and pressed his chest closer to him. _I'm merely enjoying his squirming, nothing more. Nothing more_, his mind reassured him. Alfred, who had been shocked by the sudden move, could only press the palm of his hand against his groin to stop the response. Finally, he gained enough sense to push Arthur back."I know I'm heroic and all but you're really starting to creep me out." Arthur swallowed his contaminated spit and swiftly responded, "Belt up. I was just giving you a taste of something other than alcohol and cheap lipstick." Alfred froze and glared at the small body beneath him. "I guess there's only one way to settle this. Since tomorrow is our wedding and the end of my life, how 'bout we play a game to see who is the better actor?" Arthur gnawed at his lip and gazed up at the other man."Fine. But the one who wins gets to be the groom." Alfred grinned, "Deal."

-^J^-

Alfred entered the large building behind Arthur. "What's the objective again?" Alfred asked, scanning the mesh of people in the bar. Colored lights strobed across the floor of the nightclub, blending in with the short locks of the individuals in the club. "This is a gay bar, git. The objective is to see who can act more," Arthur paused for the correct word to no avail, "gay." Alfred giggled at the word and stalked off into the crowd, thoroughly ignoring his partner. "That damn idiot." Arthur seated himself at a stool and ordered a glass of ale, his eyes grazing the scantily dressed men for Alfred. Did he truly expect me to play along with him? At the very least I get to see him be jumped by frou-frou's. Alfred was chatting up someone being masked by the dancers with a huge grin cracked on his face. Arthur sipped his beer and examined his soon-to-be's body. "Hm."

After a short hour Alfred had accumulated a steadily growing crowd of artificial policemen in shorts. "Is zere anything elze I could do for you, mon petit loup?(My little wolf)"Alfred turned towards the bar and found Arthur sitting next to a stocky man. He would've ignored them had it not been for the strained smile on Arthur's face._ As much as I hate you, Arthur Kirkland, I can't let someone be raped under my guard. _Alfred squeezed between the fan-squealing men and strolled casually towards the bar. _Time to put the acting skills on max, Alfred Jones._ "Good day. I noticed you from across the bar traipsing around my lovely Arthur as if he were some dallying whore. I assure this was not the case, correct?" Arthur's body shut down, his mouth slightly open and color rapidly draining from his face. He stared wide-eyed through Alfred as if a ghost had appeared behind him. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever kid, I'm not gonna deal with some pretty boy like you." The thick-haired man continued to ignore him until Arthur (Now poised again) swept the drinks from his hands and handed one to Alfred. Seeing that he had been rejected, the man stalked off bitterly into the club. "Thank you, Jones. However, I would like to let you know I was perfectly fine by myself. Here have a drink." Alfred ignored him and sat down on a stool. "Hey, how come you're not doing anything?" Arthur gulped down his frosty margarita and turned to Alfred. "I will not lie; I simply wanted to watch you be flirted with by older men." Alfred knitted his eyebrows together and consumed his drink, the alcohol burning down his throat. "You've got some strange hobbies, old man." Alfred had immediately expected a response from the thick-browed man however found a frown on his thin chapped lips. "Was up? Something wrong?" Arthur gazed up at him with bright eyes. "It's nothing." Six beers later and Arthur was finally ready to leave.

-^J^-

Once Alfred had haphazardly dumped Arthur onto his couch, he scurried into the Brit's kitchen for a midnight snack (something preferably non-alcoholic). "This fuckin' sucks. No ice cream? Looks like our honeymoon is gonna be at wal-mart, you damn old man." Alfred yawned loudly as his eyes raked over the granite counters. "What the hell? Is that charcoal?" He thumbed a grimy spot on the table and grimaced at the smoky dust that blew up in his face. He drunkenly stumbled throughout the kitchen, knuckles knocking into the table. His vision swayed slightly as he levelled himself again. "Wonder what else he's got in this place?" Alfred began throwing open cabinets and tossing the boxes and cans onto the island of the kitchen. "Basil and-spotted dick? Not gonna ask about that last one. Scone mix and-damn that's a crap ton of teacups." After Alfred scavenged the cabinets he turned to leave for the guest room for a good night's rest. "Sleepy. What time is it anyway?" He asked to himself as he wobbled up the stairs. "Iz 2 in da morning," a voice nasally replied behind him. "Kirkland? Didn't I just throw you on the couch?" Alfred turned around and suddenly found a shaggy blond head under his chin. Arthur gazed up at him with mysteriously lit eyes. "Din't I tell you befure? Iz nuffin'." Next thing Alfred knew he was being pushed into Arthur's bedroom. The sad truth was, Alfred was too plastered and shocked to fight him.

-^J^-

Alfred noticed immediately that something was wrong. Though his eyes were shut and he had just woken up from a dream, Alfred could feel everything around him. This included the sticky warm substance that clung to his stomach like a spider web and the sweat beads that gripped his forehead. Three minutes ticked by slowly then Alfred felt a shift in the mattress. Soft fingers curled around his pec and tightened slightly when he attempted to turn his body on its side. That's when Alfred snapped his eyes open. The ceiling fan rattled loudly, blasting cool air onto Alfred's body. "Sto' moving, git." Alfred froze at the groggy British accent that hummed in his ear. "Fuck me." A slight snort, "Already have, love." Alfred leaned up slowly in the bed and gazed at his partner. "I really hate you," Alfred said, though not tinged with anger yet simply shock. "I already knew that. Believe me, the overnight bruise on my back told me." Alfred ignored him and stared dumbfounded at the green plaster of the wall. "I'm not gay. This," he gestured to Arthur, "Shouldn't be happening." Arthur scrunched his nose up, "I had no intention of _ever _doing **this **with you. I was so sloshed last night you looked like a broad I once knew!" The small groans of the bed alerted Alfred that Arthur was crawling over to him. "But you know," Arthur hovered over Alfred, his lips brushing against Alfred's jaw. "I wouldn't mind in the least doing this again tonight." Alfred sighed, "Didn't I _just _tell you I'm not gay? And besides, I don't fuck people I hate."

Arthur frowned and stared green orbs into Alfred's eyes. "Yes you did but there is certainly no harm in experimenting, correct? And I hate you too, do not forget. However, since I am not allowed to strangle you, this is the best route to hurt you in every possible way." Alfred mulled this over in his head as Arthur wrapped bare arms around his waist. "But you're trying to cuddle. That's not hurting me exactly is it?" Arthur arched an eyebrow and nuzzled his nose into Alfred's neck. "Of course it is. Look at you, squirming and blushing like a hormonal schoolgirl." Alfred patted his cheeks to calm down the heat. "Trust me man, that's not the reason my face is red." Arthur crept over him and stepped onto the floor. "If you say so, love. I will be in the kitchen if you need me. Please, try not to need me." Alfred grunted in response and glared the other way when he remembered Arthur's lack of clothing. "Fine. Here's some advice though, get clothes on _before _cooking, just saying." Arthur snorted and shut the door closed.

-^J^-

After breakfast, which Arthur had scorched, they jumped in Alfred's car and drove to the address Antonio sent them. "Why the hell are we going to some private hill resort?" Arthur sharply turned a corner before responding, "We have to decide the decorations and food for the wedding." A groan, "Can't they just buy some random junk and throw it together?" Arthur slammed on the brake of the car, causing Alfred to slam into the window. "I will **not **allow some flashy designers to plan my wedding! My wedding, my rules." Alfred muffled his laughter and thought to himself, _why's he make such a big deal out of everything? _Arthur slowly slid back into a comfortable drive. "I do not." Alfred mentally slapped his forehead when he realized he said it out loud. "If you say so, babe." Arthur ignored him and pulled onto a dirt road lined with naked trees. "How about you _never _call me that again?" Alfred jutted out his bottom lip, "As long as you never call me 'love' again." Arthur smiled inwardly, _such a child._ "Okay dude, let's get this party started!" "Honestly, you are too cheesy for my tastes."

-^J^-

Okay, I should be able to update more this time! Sorry about the shortness too!  
>Anyways…later!<p> 


	4. Meeting the parents

**A/N: I'm sorry this took so long! I've been focused on Spanish class and I need to pass it! I already failed it once! XD**

**Sorry if there are errors, this was written in a rush! But I still tried to make it good! I listened to 'I'm in love with the HERO' by SNSD while writing this so if there are references that's why!**

**WARNING: I didn't know how to start this chapter so…it's probably not very good in the beginning.**

**Anyways, enjoy!**

-^J^-

Chapter 4: Meeting the parents

The first thing Arthur had noticed was the room. Paint and lavender burned his nostrils as he took it all in. Its cream walls were lined with deep red trimming that complemented the long brown curtains which reached the floor. Women glanced back admirably at the lush plains outside the wide windows as the men chatted of business and life. Each person dressed in bold purples, reds and whites and picked at modest portions of chicken smothered in red sauce. Arthur didn't know these people, never had, however he finally began to understand their fascination.

Arthur stood at the end of the room with a black pea coat and slacks. His undershirt was forest green and peeked innocently out of his jacket. Normally he would've complained about such simple attire had it not been for his mother who had _almost _forced his scrawny body into an elaborate wedding dress. _Thank god she lost me, _Arthur thought with a glum pout before he snapped awake by a hand on his shoulder. "Excuse me sir, we will be starting soon." He nodded towards the preacher and turned back to glance at his family.

His mother waved to him with a jerk of her hand as she picked his younger brother Peter (A/N: Sealand) up from his fort under the table. Scott and his other two brothers were chuckling wildly at their food, slinging it at one another and shoving the mush into their mouths. His father, as expected, was not present. "Where is your family, Jones?" Arthur murmured lowly and scanned the crowd. _Speaking of Alfred, I wonder how ridiculous he looks right now; he's probably in some bloody American flag tuxedo. _

As if on cue, the doors swung open. Arthur immediately choked at the sight of the tight suit that Alfred had squeezed into. His biceps and chest showed exceptionally fit in the grey tuxedo and his glasses had been removed to reveal shining blue eyes. That wide grin was still placed on his pink lips and his hands were clasped behind his back. His stubborn cowlick still stood loud and proud on his head however his amber locks had been tamed. On his breast pocket was a rose with soft out curled edges. He looked ravishing, no-not that, he looked like a prince ready to sweep Arthur off his feet. Arthur could feel heat rush to his face and stubbornly ignored the tightness in his pants. _God I hate you, Alfred Jones!_

Alfred took in the short statured man at the altar. His shaggy hair had been tamed forcefully with a comb and his hands were tucked elegantly in his pockets. His thick eyebrows were untouched (Alfred had been secretly hoping they messed with those, just to piss Arthur off) and his frown was, unsurprisingly, still clinging to his lips. His green eyes were a lit with a strange golden glow and he looked the picture of gentleman. _Okay, he doesn't look cute Jones, not at all dude, _Alfred looked over Arthur once more. _Fuck it, he looks downright adorable and I really wish I wouldn't have to admit that._ To say Arthur was a princess would be a lie, however he could pass for a badass heroine.

Alfred preceded down the aisle with big steps, his father trailing behind him with a flourish. Forcing on a heroic smile, he counted down the steps to his kryptonite. When his throat constricted he thought about turning back and running away when he reached Arthur and his _ever-glowing _anger. The preacher began speaking slowly to the cooing crowd of men and women. "We are gathered here today," he began in a monotone drawl. Alfred teetered to his side and glanced at Arthur who responded with a deep-set glare. Soon he realized, he was going to be glaring the entire speech and decided to gazing at the wall would better suit him.

After they said their vows, a child scurried up to them with a plush pillow. Alfred gently plucked Arthur's ring from the cushion and held out his hand. Slowly, Arthur responded and curled his fingers around Alfred's palm. They gazed at one another for a few moments in a heated battle then Alfred shoved the gold band onto Arthur's finger. The other grunted in response and swept the other ring off the pillow. With little caution, Arthur gripped Alfred's hand and pushed the ring onto Alfred's finger. "You may now kiss," the preacher paused for the correct word, "the groom?" Then Alfred dug his fingernails into Arthur's shoulders and slammed his lips against the others.

People watched in amazement at the 'love' that the once rivals shared and when Arthur tugged on Alfred's hair, the men cheered. After a breathtaking minute, they released each other. A thin trail of saliva connected their bruised lips. Arthur leaned up and ran his tongue across Alfred's mouth to collect the mix of spit before kissing his jaw.

"I really fucking hate you, Jones," Arthur whispered against Alfred's jaw.

"_Hah, _that makes two of us Kirkland," he breathlessly replied in Arthur's ear.

As the flashes of the cameras blinded them one thought still hung in the air. _Fuck. We're married._

-^J^-

Arthur glanced down at the framed pictures placed on the table. Each photo contained a house, each elaborate and eccentric in elegance. "_Lo siento_, I guess I should have picked a more _secluded _home," Antonio winked suggestively from across the coffee table. Alfred blinked at him. Once. Twice. Three times. Then Arthur thumped him on the forehead. "I'll have you know that we _do not _plan on doing anything of the sort." Antonio chuckled and crossed his arms daintily over his chest. "So, what house do you like, hm?" Alfred focused on each picture then stated firmly, "The third one." Arthur took a moment to scan over the advertisements. "Absolutely not! We want the seventh one!" Alfred snorted mercilessly, "No, we want the third one."

"So help me Jones, we want the seventh!"

Alfred sighed dramatically, "Fine."

Arthur glared at Alfred and asked with a growl, "Why must you always go out of your way to annoy me?" Alfred glanced up at him and shrugged his shoulders. "I dunno." Arthur flew a fist down onto Alfred's skull. "Fuck! Ow-ow-ow!" Alfred held onto his head, mumbling and glaring at Arthur like a disobedient child. "Don't get cross with me, Jones. I'm warning you. I will not hesitate to do that again." Alfred spared his puppy eyes for Antonio, who just grinned in return. Seeing as how Antonio ignored his pleas, he sighed and decided to let the poor secretary leave.

"_Anyways, _I guess we're taking number seven." Antonio snickered and waited for Arthur's response as Alfred pushed the British man away from him. "Yes, number seven," Arthur agreed._ "Si, _let me get the papers ready and you will be moving in two days. Be sure to get everything packed." Alfred hopped up and shook Antonio's hand firmly, "Alright dude, see you later!"

Antonio blinked then grinned widely as he pulled Alfred into a bone-crushing hug. "Adios, buddy! I look forward to see how you fare!" Antonio gathered the photos, saluted Alfred and Arthur, and skipped out of the house with a toothy smile. "Look you probably scared the shit out of him with those creepy eyebrows of yours! And I'm still angry at you, why haven't you apologized?" Alfred's voice morphed into a whiny shrill as he threw his arms aimlessly.

"I highly doubt he was frightened. As for _that night, _I still refuse to apologize for that." Alfred rolled his eyes and pushed past Arthur to pull on his blue hoodie. "What are you doing? It's not that cold in here, wanker." Ignoring him, Alfred pushed up his glasses and sauntered out the door.

"Wh-where are you going? Don't you dare ignore me!" Arthur shrugged on his coat and stomped after him, his finger wiggling in the air in annoyance.

-^J^-

Alfred had led them to a small coffee stand in the park. After ordering a steaming cup of grainy coffee, Alfred parked his butt at a bench and tried not to shiver as the icy wind bit his skin. Arthur reluctantly sat down next to him holding a foam cup filled with American tea (which, mind you, was bitter and weak). "Dude, why did I come to the park?" Alfred muttered to himself and glared at his partner, who glared back with equal disgust. "I have no clue. I was expecting McDonalds or something, not something so," Arthur searched for the correct word, "_sanitary." _Alfred snorted in response and downed his coffee in one gulp. Few people scattered about, oblivious to the dashing Hollywood actor and his newly-wed on the bench. Suddenly, his phone buzzed awake and irritably he flipped it open and held it to his ear (making sure that it was on the same side as Arthur). "Yo?" He could feel Arthur's glare on him at the greeting and decided to scurry off to a shadowy tree. "Alfred? It's your lover." Alfred rolled his eyes at the nasally accent through the phone. "Oh yeah, my _lover. _What do you want, man?" He glanced back at Arthur, who blinked around at the scenery in boredom. "You did not tell big bruzer zat you were getting married to-," Alfred was left with an obscene melody of French laughing when the line went dead.

"What the hell? Ah, well, he was probably dead drunk." Suddenly he remembered that last phone call from three weeks ago and reluctantly (though he actually didn't want to see Arthur again) he punched in his mother's phone number. After a few rings he was greeted with a quiet gasp. "Al, is that you? Oh, Al I have so much to tell you!" His mother's airy giggle forced a smile to twitch its way onto his lips. "Yes mother, I also have a lot to tell you."

"Say no more, Al. I know my son better than anyone, have you been getting bullied?"

"Ah-what? Well there is a bully but-," he chuckled and glanced back at Arthur again, who by now was glaring at the tree that blocked him, as if he could hear him.

"Who's been bullying my son?" Her tone lowered dangerously over the phone.

"It's no one important. Anyways, about what I wanted to tell you. I'm moving into a new house so I'll text the directions to you when I get there."

"A new house? Could I help you move some of your things? I would like to see it myself."

Alfred mulled this over his head for a few moments before responding hesitantly, "I suppose."

His mother's soft laugh played in response before Alfred pressed on.

"But! I must warn you of something before you get here. There's a beast so sinister I'm afraid your hero must protect you throughout the journey."

"Oh? Sinister beast? Sounds like fun! I'll be at your home in two!"

"Two minutes?" Alfred gaped at his phone.

"Two minutes? Heavens no! Two days, sweetie. Honestly, your brother must've gotten the brains. Ta-ta, my little hero!"

"Bye, mom!" Alfred slipped out from behind the tree with a grin and bounced back to the bench.

"What took you so long?" Arthur questioned, his eyebrows furrowing together when his frown deepened.

"Francis called. And I had to talk to my mom." Alfred sat back on the bench, pulling up his legs to sit cross-legged.

"What about? With your mother I mean. I could care less about that frog-face." Arthur turned to face Alfred as if interested.

"The usual. She wants to help me pack up to move, so make sure you're not there when she arrives."

"Of course," Arthur replied, his left eye twitching up in amusement.

"I know what that means. 'Of course'! You only say that when you come up with a plan!" Alfred jabbed a finger at Arthur, a smirk evident on his face.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Arthur innocently replied as he tossed his cup into the trash bin next to them. Night arrived thirty minutes later and the park was empty of all New Yorkers who had by now gone for more excitement.

One by one the lampposts snapped on, lighting up the winding sidewalk and the bench that the two men sat at. Sighing, Alfred pushed off the bench and glanced around at the silent park. "What are you doing?" Arthur pulled himself and followed after the American. "It's too damn quiet! I kind of want to scream my head off!" And he had done just that, letting out a blood-curdling scream that could rival the running women in horror movies. "Shut up! Damn git, you are too loud! Shut up! Bloody hell," Arthur shoved his fingers in his ears and glared at Alfred's back. Turning around, Alfred snickered and watched as Arthur unplugged his ears. "Sorry, didn't want to be molested by your eyebrows." Alfred tossed his coffee cup on the ground and walked back in the direction of Arthur's house. "Hey-ah, you pick up this coffee cup! You are such a child!" Arthur huffed and deposited the cup into the bin and stalked off past Alfred.

-^J^-

Two days later, Alfred pulled up into his old house's driveway to gather his things for the new house. Immediately he took notice of the blue minivan that was parked next to him and, specifically, the woman wiggling her fingers at him from inside it. Her wavy dark blonde hair was tied up into a ponytail and she still held that look that spoke 'sporty'. "Is that your mother?" Alfred groaned when he remembered the grumpy British man in the seat next to him. "Yes, that is. Stay in the car, I don't want her turning to stone." Arthur snorted but ignored him in favor of the window. Not even a second after slamming his car door shut had his mother nuzzled him into a hug.

"Hi, mom. Let's get started, shall we?" His mother nodded vigorously and practically skipped through the door. Feeling empowered, he stepped in after her and started to his living room with a cardboard box in hand.

Meanwhile, Arthur was blankly flipping through an old issue of glamour magazine. "Do these women have no decency?" He wasn't talking about their scantily clad bodies but simply their choice of clothing in general. "Jeggings? What are these?" He scrutinized the red-headed woman in a plaid shirt and 'jeggings'. "They look like jeans. I don't understand at all. It's rather stuffy in here, that git better have left the keys in here." Glancing around, Arthur noticed a Mickey Mouse key ring and sighed in relief. Forcing the keys into the ignition, he notched up the air conditioner to full blast and began intently reading the 6-page article on the odd jeans.

"Oh, Al?" Alfred grimaced when his mother dropped his baby booties into the box.

"Yeah?" He examined a quilt his grandmother owned before tossing it into that same box.

"I forgot to ask but, exactly why are you moving?"

He froze in place, hands gripping his couch pillow as if his life depended on it. "W-why do you ask?"

"Well, I assumed you wanted to live further away from me but-," his mother paused and glanced at him.

"Not at all, mom! It's just-Let's talk about this later, okay?" His mother sighed but followed suit and continued to dump photo albums into the box.

-^J^-

Three hours later, they had cleared the kitchen, living room and were now making their way upstairs to Alfred's bedroom. "Uh-oh. Looks like we may need to take two trips!" Alfred nodded towards his mother and pushed open his bedroom door, instantly reaching for his posters. "I agree. Hey mom, could you go get the hammer downstairs? I think it's in the toolbox on the porch." His mother nodded and rushed down the stairs to the front door. When she caught sight of the red metal container she popped it open and shuffled through its contents. "Ah-excuse me?" Blinking slowly, she wheeled around to face a short man. "Hm? Are you the repo man?" The man raised an eyebrow and softly smiled, "Actually no. But, ah-how do I put this?" Grinning, she tugged the man by the arm and led him into the living room, the hammer tucked in her apron. "Okay, how can I help you? Are you a friend of Al's?"

"Not necessarily."

"Mom, where are you? I kind of need that ha-," Alfred stopped in the doorway to the living room. "Didn't I tell you to wait in the car? I haven't explained it to her yet! I'm ruined now!" Alfred knelt on the ground and clasped his hands in prayer.

"You fool! Leaving me in that car to die while you went out reminiscing? And look now the car ran out of gas and I'm stranded here! With you, no less!" Arthur stomped over to Alfred and slapped him on the head.

"What? Why didn't you roll down the windows?"

"It's hot outside! Honestly, how stupid are you?"

"Well at least I don't destroy everything I touch!"

"Well if I do, why are you still here? Arse."

"Ass! At least say it right!"

Meanwhile, the woman long forgotten stared at the arguing men with wide blue eyes and pursed lips. "Al, who is this?" The arguing was silenced by that question and now Alfred stared nervously at her. "Well," he began and looked at Arthur who sighed and stepped towards the woman to sit on the couch. Clasping her hands in his he began, "This may be hard to explain but recently Alfred has," he paused, "gotten married." Tears started rolling down her cheeks instantly she stood up to pull her son into a gripping hug. "That's so great! Al, is that why you're moving? Where's the lucky gal? Let your mum meet her!" Alfred snickered and tossed an arm around his mother's thin shoulders. "Well, the lucky 'gal' is right here, mom." He waved his palm at Arthur, who by now had retreated to the other side of the room.

"That's great, sweetie! I didn't know you were a homosapien! Too bad you can't have children though. So, let me take a picture of you two lovebirds!" She pushed Alfred towards Arthur and ignored the questioning look from Arthur at Alfred being a 'homosapien'. As she set up her phone, Arthur awkwardly stood next to Alfred with a forced smile and pulled at the hem of his sweater. Alfred fared no better and unconsciously twisted the gold band on his ring finger as his mother situated herself for the picture. When she pulled the phone up to her face, Alfred sheepishly grinned for the flash of the camera. However, it never came. And when he focused back on his mother, her eyebrows were knitted in confusion. "Where's the spark? I need to see the passion! Stop being so bashful you two, I won't tell a soul! Come on, everyone else got to see your wedding kiss let me see it too!"

Alfred mentally groaned and cupped Arthur's cheek to bend down and kiss him-on the forehead. "Honestly, can't you do anything right?" Arthur muttered before pulling Alfred down into a bruising kiss, his eyebrows knitted together as he stepped closer to Alfred. Large hands tugged his waist closer and soon their chests were pushed together. Alfred slipped a hand down to grab at Arthur's ass when he suddenly remembered that his mother was present and held his hand in an awkward position in the air. Arthur stepped away from Alfred with ragged breath when he realized that he had almost moaned into Alfred's mouth. '_Damn, why must I be so horny?' _both men thought as they slapped the red from their cheeks.

"So nice. How I miss those honeymoon days. Are you two planning on going to the Bahamas for your honeymoon? Mattie and I will gladly come with you guys!" She waved her hands excitedly at the men, who only stared at her in response as they wiped their lips clean. "Well, let's figure that out later. First, let's finish packing and then I will drive you guys to your new house!" They agreed with her and quietly continued boxing up keepsakes of Alfred's. His mother picked up a shoe from under the bed and turned around to speak when she blinked at the scene. It had been unusually quiet for her however now, she noticed, that the two men were speaking volumes with each other. And when they caught sight of each other's hands their gazes locked together. Growing red to their ears, the men turned away from each other and crawled to opposite sides of the room. "So cute," she whispered to herself, hands set on her cheeks, "I should show Mattie." And with that, she sent her previous photo to his phone with a winking emoticon.

Meanwhile, Matthew had his face practically pressed up against his television screen. After all, on a Saturday night what better to do than watch some good ol' hockey, eh? From his side, he heard a buzz of his phone and glanced over at it for a moment then returned to the game. When a 'Macys' commercial popped up minutes later, he sighed and reached for his phone. Flipping it open, his jaw hung slack. "That fokken goof.*"

-^J^-

**That took an incredibly long time to update. God, I can see France in my window. Ready to molest me for not updating. Anyways, I will have it in two weeks for sure. Just have to pass Spanish first! I already failed it once. XD I suck at learning languages.**

**Until next time, Read and review! Please! I like to hear what you guys think, it gives me ideas! Thanks so much for reading!**

***I researched offensive words said by Canadians and apparently, 'Goof' is one of the worst things to call someone* **

**(Which makes sense since every time I call my Canadian friend a 'Silly goof' or something, he stares at me like I just slapped him.) XD**


	5. Technique

A/N: I'm just going to thank everyone now for putting up with my antics. So thank you! XD

And thanks to those that review and favorite/follow this story, you guys boost my confidence!

Enjoy!

-^J^-

**Chapter 6: Welcome to the Bahamas**

The Bahamas, as described by the pamphlet in Arthur's hand, was _your dream romantic getaway with white beaches and deep blue waters_. However, Arthur held much doubt that it would be that beautiful in person, especially going with Alfred. Inwardly sighing, Arthur sipped his lavender tea, watching the purple clusters of petals dance on the surface. While Arthur had always imagined first class, this was by far better than even his fantasy could dream. The seats were made of _leather _and not that damn scratchy yarn that always drove him mad. And the calm violin humming in the background, ah-bliss. Of course, the best part was not sitting next to crying children in a stuffy room.

Arthur placed his cup back on the saucer and glanced indifferently out the window. Sitting comfortably for the next few minutes had been the happiest moment of his life, even more so than his smooch with his school crush twelve years ago. That was until he saw it. The frothy waves that lapped against the beach, dragging up green tentacle monsters that ignorance named _Seaweed. _Damn frightening, he could almost swear he felt them on his shoulder at the moment.

His eyes slid over the landscape in amazement, mouth tickling into a toothy grin. The pamphlet was right! For once Arthur believed in a media induced picture and felt no shame in doing so. _Calm down Arthur, remember that seaweed? It won't be perfect with the seaweed. Damn, I can feel again. Tickling my shoulder-wait a second, what is that?_

Arthur felt bells ring in his ear as he turned around and caught sight of the most innocent grin a man could muster. "What do you want?" Arthur grunted out, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Nothing. Though it is funny that you act amazed even when you probably have been here many times, right?" Alfred perked up when the other man's freckly cheeks flared up into a dark red at his comment.

"O-Of course I have! In fact I have been here many times, so much so that I know many of the commoners here!" Arthur stammered to the blonde standing next to him.

"Really?" Alfred cooed and bounced back on his heels, before sliding past the curtain and into the bathroom. "That's interesting," Alfred murmured under his breath.

"_Passengers, please return to your seats. We will be landing shortly. Thank you for boarding the Serani Airlines we hope you enjoy your stay in the Bahamas."_

_Please let this be a good vacation-er honeymoon, _Arthur thought worriedly as he handed in his blanket to the attendant.

"This is the resort?" Alfred abashedly questioned the guide, who nodded proudly at the spaced gaze on his face.

Two canopy buildings decorated with an assortment of fragrant island flowers hung over the water, a wooden bridge connecting them to a private beach on the mainland. At the front of each room, stood a woman dressed in formal wear, their hands placed down as they bowed to Alfred and Arthur. A river snaked between the houses, filled with vibrant fish and coral.

Ms. Jones, who had joined them unannounced (along with Matthew), stepped up to the river and began running her fingers over the silky surface of water. When she was distracted, Matthew tapped Alfred's shoulder and murmured lowly, "Al, you need to act more casual if you're to beat this guy."

"How am I supposed to do that?" Alfred mutedly mouthed to Matthew. "First off, act like you own the place." Matthew strolled past Alfred as an example, sunglasses perched on his head and his wavy hair brushed back into a short ponytail. Stepping towards one room, Matthew introduced himself to his butler. Alfred could make out a quiet, "_My name is Kat, sir. _(Ukraine)"

Alfred nodded in understanding and tucked clammy hands into his pockets as he sauntered past Arthur, a cool smile place upon his lips. _Wow, I feel so awesome! Damn Mattie, you're the best brother ever! _Alfred snickered and turned towards Matthew to direct a grin his way, when he caught sight of the alarm in his brother's violet eyes. "What is it, Mat-?"

Alfred felt cool metal press his stomach before he the ground left his feet. _Splash! _A salty taste attacked his tongue as he plunged deeper into the darkness of the ocean.

_I'm going to die here! Married to a guy I hate and-oh my god! I'm still a virgin! Goodbye, life! _Alfred thought as he shut his eyes in defeat and sunk to his death.

"Bloody hell, now I'm soaking wet too?"

All at once oxygen rushed into his lungs and before him sat an irritated Brit. "W-What happened?"

Alfred settled into his surroundings. A feathery white bed scattered with colorful blends of petals sat beneath him. To his left, a massive window blinked sunrays at him, granting him access to a pleasurable view of the sun lying on the ocean surface. An exquisite room surrounded him, that and the grinding of teeth. _Ah-the room. How did I get here?_

"You decided to be stupid and fall over a rail. Then I was forced to pick up your scrambling limbs and drag you to the room! Would you like to know something interesting? The water was a mere foot deep!" Arthur promptly stated, his lips crossed between a scowl and a haughty grin.

Alfred sighed dramatically, far used to the embarrassment that tormented his life. "Anyways, dinner will be served soon. I hadn't a clue as to what you liked so I just picked something," Arthur hissed out in a low tune.

"What did you-What did you get me? You know I have to eat that or publicity will be all over my ass for being picky." Swinging his legs over the bedside, Alfred pushed himself up and squinted at the menu, trying to read anything that could be harmful to him.

"Dude, I can't see shit! Where are my glasses?" Alfred pulled the menu up towards his face, inches from his nose.

"In the ocean, you should have grabbed them when you had the chance," Arthur churned out distastefully, "As for what I got you, that's a secret." A smile twitched onto Arthur's face before blinking back into a frown.

"Fuck."

Dinner was served. Alfred could see the outline of the plate as he towered over the table, yet only able to make out brown blobs on the plate alongside with something white. _Meat and potatoes? No, Arthur would never be that nice, _Alfred thought deeply in his mind.

"Why don't you sit and eat, Alfie?" His mother gestured toward the chair and dutifully dug at her meal with Matthew. "Yes, _Alfie, _why don't you?" Alfred could hear the smirk in Arthur's tone but chose to ignore it. Seating himself, Alfred curled his clammy fingers around a fork and jabbed at the meat. It looked scarcely like pork or spam? Alfred wasn't sure, so in a trance he scooped some onto his fork and plopped the bite in his mouth. It was-like ham flavored Jell-O and that enough repulsed Alfred to spit it into his napkin and turn towards Arthur in anger and confusion.

"What the hell? What is that crap?" Alfred could still feel the slimy taste of meat slithering down his throat as he gulped down a glass of wine.

Offended, Arthur scooped some on his spoon and swallowed it easily. "Brawn, Alfred. It's brawn. Thank you for being offensive towards my country."

"As if, this food itself is an insult all on its own," Alfred countered, jabbing a finger at the detesting pork seated on the white plate.

Arthur elbowed Alfred's side and stared off past Matthew. Turning around, Alfred noticed a scurry of cameramen flashing bright lights at them with microphones clasped to their jackets.

"Fuck me," Alfred whispered, then, "Cheers!" And he gobbled down a few more bites, being sure to take them with a gulp of wine.

"This is your fault, you know? I have no clue as to why you couldn't just leave the honeymoon alone," Arthur grumbled, his fingers splayed across the table.

"You're the one that agreed to the proposal anyways. Remember?" Alfred choked down another bite of Brawn and glanced at the cameras.

He was met with silence at his question and the rest of the dinner passed by fleetingly.

Alfred returned to their room shortly after convincing his maid to sneak a sandwich to him. And what he saw was not what he expected. Arthur was kneeled on the carpet, his fingers threaded through his hair and a horrified look on his face. "Oh my god, did you s-see a ghost?" Alfred questioned him and was answered with a heavy swallow.

"Alfred. Are there cameras outside?"

Alfred pulled back the curtains to peek outside and, sure enough, a line of photographers were staring back in full concentration.

"Looks like it. Why?"

"Well, I suppose I will go to sleep then," Arthur mumbled out then crawled under the blankets after confirming that a good portion of the pesky petals were knocked off the bed.

"Suppose I'll also go to bed then." Then it hit him. "Or, is there perhaps only one bed?" Alfred was answered with a pull of the blanket which covered Arthur's head. "And I have to sleep there also, because the reporters will trash me if I don't?" No answer.

Truth was, Alfred and Arthur had already slept in the same bed, hell, they had already had sex. However, after that intimate 'snogging', as Arthur would put it, this was just awkward.

So Alfred coughed a few times and decided to act as normal as possible, hopeful that he would gain the upper hand on Arthur. Slipping his shirt off and tossing it to the floor, Alfred approached the bed in a cautious manner.

Pulling the duvet back, Alfred noticed Arthur roll to the edge of the bed, still facing away. Alfred lied down on the mattress, his arm tucked under his back. The position was uncomfortable, but Alfred dared not move another inch until Arthur was asleep. After a few minutes, a moan slipped past Alfred's lips. It was really painful, and his arm had long fallen asleep.

"Honestly," Arthur turned to face him and situated his arms comfortably. This wasn't unusual; Arthur just didn't want to hear his groaning all night. However, something unusual was the blush blooming on his cheeks. And not the occasional embarrassed pink hue; this was undoubtedly the blush of a man producing dirty fantasies behind his eyelids.

"Arthur," Alfred forced himself not to heave, "what were you thinking about?" And then the forced chuckle came and Arthur was most definitely not alright. "You okay?" Alfred scooted closer to Arthur, who backed away immediately.

Alfred reached a shaky hand towards Arthur face and stroked his cheek softly. "A-Alfred," Arthur could feel his breath grow heavier. Scooting closer, Arthur brushed his thin fingers over Alfred's chest, savoring the feel of the muscles that taunted him so many times.

Alfred cupped Arthur's cheeks with rough hands and leaned closer until their breath mingled. "Arthur, I-I," then Alfred chuckled under his breath. "I'm sleepy." Then Alfred rolled over to the other side of the bed and faced away from Arthur, already savoring the lamb look Arthur gave him.

Shutting his eyes, Alfred welcomed the darkness that seeped into his vision. That was until he was jolted by hands smoothing over his chest. And now it was his turn to blush. "W-what are you doing?" Unsurprisingly, he received no response and was welcomed by a hand massaging between his legs. He groaned and suddenly realized that he indeed was hard. Then a chuckle sounded close to his ear.

"Payback's a bitch, is it not?" Arthur removed his hand and sprawled over the bed, still staring at Alfred.

"B-be right back," Alfred stammered out, and walked off to the bathroom. That is if 'walking' includes tripping over a stool, bumping your shoulder into a wall, and slamming your groin into a table.

"Fucking shit!" Alfred locked the door and stared at the tissues.

Alfred realized then, that maybe drowning didn't sound like such a bad idea.

-^J^-

A/N: Sorry, I haven't updated lately, my family was having a lot of troubles and I hadn't the time to write. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, I'm really starting to wonder whether I should keep this T or change to M. I don't know, we will see. Also, I know the ending was rushed and I'm sorry for it, I was at a loss of how to explain what was happening.

R & R if you don't mind! Thank you very much for reading!

Goodbye for now!


	6. The beginning of the end

A/N: Sorry, I keep getting obsessed and sucked into different fandoms (Darn you, Doctor who!) Anyways, I'm trying to get better at actually writing instead of killing people with my lack of update. XD

**Chapter 7: The beginning of the end**

"One, two," Matthew paused, his feet bowed out on the looming platform. "Three!" Bouncing off the balls of his feet, Matthew hopped into the ocean depths. Seconds ticked by before a mop of blonde hair flopped out of the water.

"Come on, Al! No need to be scared!" Matthew heaved in a gulp of air and was whisked up onto the water's surface. Closing his dark eyes from the sun, Matthew lied on the surface, his body floating with the smooth current.

"A hero is never scared, Matt! I just need to figure out which diving style is the coolest!" Alfred pursed his lips and scrunched up his nose. Matthew continued to bark with laughter and peeked open an eye to glance at his brother.

"Peer pressure, Al. Peer pressure!"

Meanwhile, Arthur sat on a bench next to his mother-in-law, scrutinizing the wood they sat on. Sand specks peppered the surface while pushing into cracks. The wood was split and wearied and stood out on the marble path.

"So Arthur, I know we have yet to get acquainted. Tell me about your first meeting with my son, please? Oh, and no fake response like my son gave, I would like an honest answer. I'm dying to know," she exclaimed, tapping her fragile fingers onto Arthur's wrist. Her smile was genuinely curious, mischief lurking behind her bright eyes.

"Ah, yes," Arthur responded, shuffling around to turn toward her.

_ Should I make it up? No, I cannot do that. Well, I guess I could I tell her the truth, _Arthur thought to himself as his heart swelled in his chest.

"Well, the first time I met Jon-er-Alfred I despised him. He was brawny and stupid and- too tall, childish, annoying, nerdy, and for some ungodly reason he thinks he's some bloody hero! I mean there is no-," Arthur cut himself off and peeked up at his mother-in-law. Her mouth was in a frown and her eyes popped out at him.

"Wow, you really do know your stuff, " she said, "My son is exactly like that!" Her mouth twisted into a full grin and she grabbed his hands with her thin fingers.

Arthur churned a few chuckles out as the woman continued to detail him. Then she opened her mouth to speak.

She whispered in his ear, awaiting for the blank expression on Arthur's face to pop into amazement.

"Excuse me?" Arthur asked, gazing over his body as if he were covered in numbers.

"Those are my son's shirt measurements. I wanted to let you know that so that you could buy him clothes." Arthur nodded and gazed over at the American boy. Just looking at the streams of water curving down his chest made Arthur feel warm.

_ Yeah, maybe his measurements when he was a kid._

-^J^-

Two days passed before Arthur found himself seated in an airplane seat, overlooking the hauntingly blue water that danced beneath him. Arthur pushed on the pane of the window, wishing that it would swing open and suck him out into the clouds.

"Arthur!"

That voice had never called him that. _Arthur._ It had a charming ring to it and Arthur dully noted that a dark flush dusted over his cheeks. "Yes?" He responded, catching his voice when he turned.

"What did you think of the Bahamas?" Alfred asked, genuinely curious in his partner's view on Alfred's favorite place on the planet. A bright toothy smile blinded Arthur and he could swear he almost puked at the sight. However, the reason was far different from when he saw disgusting French people. It was a nervous tick in his brain and a jump in his heart.

"It was much more interesting than I had originally anticipated. I enjoyed it. I might even go as far to say as-I enjoyed it. A lot," Arthur couldn't keep the smile from his lips even as he tried to bite it down.

"Sweet! I'm glad you liked it! You know, maybe you're not that bad of a guy, Arthur," Alfred responded and in a silent agreement the men shook hands.

"But you still say 'ass' wrong," Alfred chuckled out with an eyebrow arched up on his forehead, hiding behind his feathery bangs.

"You bloody arse," Arthur responded, hiding the thin smile behind his palm.

_I suppose this is what happens when people are happy, even their most hated rivals become best friends._

-^J^-

Alfred and Arthur pulled into the driveway of their new home. The land was three acres wide and scattered with thick cherry trees which canoed petals to the ground, dusting the ground in a hue of pink. There was a spacious pond dug next to the house, connected by a long deck which curled in the center of it, hanging over the angelfish which glided through the plants, disappearing and reappearing in a blink.

The house had tall slanted walls of white which contrasted with the slope of the black roof. On the wall facing the pond, there were windows lining top to bottom giving an admirable view of the land outside, as if you were connected to it. The furniture inside would be described as modern, with curves and splashes of color amidst tides of black and white.

The home was beautiful, even to the two contrasting men who resided in it. There were no servants or cooks. In fact, people could scarcely bother them up on the hill.

They swung the door open without a word and immediately crawled up the stairs. Alfred hurried to the bathroom, slamming the door and locking it shut. Being absolutely mindful of holding his crotch and skirting around the short man. Arthur sighed in relief and pulled his toothbrush from his suitcase.

After freshening himself from a long plane ride, Arthur tucked himself under the blankets, his back facing Alfred, who had long lied down and dozed off.

Arthur could feel sleep overcome him and snake up his body when he felt an uncomfortable shift under the blankets. Lowering his head, he searched for it under the blankets when he caught a smell that would make him regret marrying the fool next to him.

"Oh my god. Please do not tell me he just-," Arthur couldn't find the right word. So, without waking Alfred up, he scurried to the guest bedroom. Even now as he lied down again (after re-refreshening himself) he could only grin at the prospect of being comfortable with a person enough to not mind doing things like that near them.

_But it's still disgusting, _Arthur thought as he finally lulled to sleep.

A/N: Do couples actually feel okay with farting and admitting it? Cause I know some do and some don't...Hmm...Case study~!

Anyways, see you next time!


	7. Goodbyes And Hellos

**Chapter 7: Goodbyes and Hellos **

(I made a typo this is actually chapter 7…oops.)

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/N: Good news! :D I know I've been gone for a while because of school so I decided to work hard over the summer. And _finally _I am ahead by like 5 chapters…And I can't wait for everyone to read it!

Enjoy! It gets better later on, I promise!

-^J^-

Arthur ran the pad of his finger on the calendar languidly, dragging it along the surface until he jerked his finger back to the 21st. "Jones, what's the date?" Arthur could hear his stomach drop down to his knees.

"Huh? Oh, the 21st," Alfred replied absently while scooping up two scoops of dark coffee beans and dumping them into the slot in the bean grinder. While pouring the beans in, a thought clicked into place and with it the beans scattered across the counter. "Shit, I have that meeting today with Feliks. Well, damn. Do I have enough time to stop by Starbucks, you think? Ah, who am I kidding? Of course I'll have time. I've got to go now though if I want to make it," Alfred sputtered and glanced at his watch. Gasping in frustration he slipped his coat off the rack and tossed his keys into his pocket. He shot a hand out at the doorknob and not a second later the door was slammed shut.

Arthur stepped into the hallway, his feet pattered across the ground as he made his way to the shower. He paused to stare at the front door. In all honesty, he was a little put out that Alfred had not even tried to say goodbye. Even if it was only a _little bit, _it still make Arthur's heart squeeze. Arthur was not sure why he felt compelled to say goodbye to the man who had destroyed his life. He knew Alfred could be a burden and yet the gnawing on his heart would not leave him when the boy was around. It was not a strong push or pull, simply a small tug towards the boy. No, Arthur could contently say he was not thrown into love. Yet he could also begrudge the fact that his hatred for the man was on the fence. After all, the idea that Arthur could even like the man, much less _love _him was laughable. And yet there was that tug again and with it, thousands of questions pounded blood into his temples. He was knocked out of his trance when the door swung open.

There was Alfred, his jacket hanging off one shoulder with his converse sloppily tied. Arthur could not so much as ask the man why he was here when Alfred scurried towards him. Alfred scrutinized the wall as if trying to make a difficult decision. Then, with a fleeting swoop Arthur felt warm lips push against his own. Arthur blinked at the remarkable blue eyes in front of him, staring straight back at him as if the man himself could not fathom what he had done.

Arthur could feel the blood rushing all through his body and hastily blamed the heat in his body on the heater and not the boy standing in front of him. Seconds ticked by and Arthur could feel his body relax into the kiss. _Damn you body, you dare betray me? _Arthur squeezed his hands into fists as he tried not to give in to the oh so comforting warmth the boy coursed through his body. Yet the drop in his shoulders and thumping in his chest was once again pulling him towards the boy. Not a second later, the warmth was gone and in its place was a hesitant grin.

"Sorry, I forgot to say goodbye. I'm new to this so uh, goodbye," Alfred stammered before slipping back out the door, his cheeks brightened with a red glow.

Arthur stood shock still in the hallway, holding an unrelenting gaze towards the wall. Blood spilled into his cheeks as he pressed his cool fingers to his warm cheeks.

-^J^-

Alfred twisted the keys in the ignition and eagerly pulled out of the driveway. Glancing at his watch, Alfred pushed harder on the pedal. "Oh my God, what the actual _fuck _did I just do? Did I just kiss Kirkland? What am I, a white-collared husband?" Alfred slowed at a stop light and tugged his phone out of his pocket. Hurriedly, he stabbed a message into the keyboard and sent it. Sighing, his thoughts carried back to the man.

It was safe to say that _maybe_ Arthur wasn't as bad as he thought. The guy had a mean streak but overall he was pretty cool. Even when he yelled at Alfred it wasn't harsh or ill-intended it was just what Arthur did. That's not to say that sometimes it didn't drive Alfred mad but he could look past Arthur's nagging and hatred for him. In fact, Alfred could so much as say that even _he_ could look past his hatred for the man. Alfred would not love him, never would that happen. However, he could say that he _cared _for the grumpy man. And hidden the back of his mind, Alfred couldn't stop the nagging feeling that maybe he cared more than he should.

Alfred parked his car at the apartment complex and shut off his car. Alfred whistled low when he took in the sight of the building. The building had sloped roofs that shot off in many directions and curved into odd geometrical shapes. It stood thirty stories high and Alfred could see a glass bottomed pool loomed over the street. The building was structured with glass and heavy white brick and standing by the wide doors were two men dressed in pinstripe suits with their hands clasped behind their back.

Alfred, feeling far underdressed in his scuffed sneakers and cherry red parka dipped down to open his trunk. Strolling to the back of his car he lifted out a sports bag and twisted around the street into an alley nearby. Taking in as little rancid piss smell as his lungs would allow, Alfred unzipped the bag and chuckled.

"Oh, Alfred. You truly are a smart man." Alfred brushed his hands over the clear sack inside and cackled loudly. He dug out a comb and set to work.

-^J^-

"Five minutes left," Arthur mumbled. Sitting on a bench outside the mall, Arthur "eagerly" awaited to see his new mother-in-law. A week ago when Arthur and Alfred had first settled into their new home, Alfred's mother had graciously called him and invited herself to Arthur's shopping spree. For Alfred. And now here Arthur was, preparing to spend from morning until dusk chatting about 'mummy's little hero'. And oh god, Arthur was reminded that he was actually going to _have _to contribute to the conversation. Bloody fantastic!

His phone buzzed and Arthur tugged it out of his pocket and glared at the screen. "New message?" Then Arthur tapped on the message bubble.

_That was a spur of the moment thing! Don't get the wrong idea, I still hate you! :(_

_-HERO_

Arthur was thoroughly confused. What the hell was this idiot talking about now? Disregarding the fact that Alfred was now showing up as HERO in his phone, Arthur blinked at the message. "What the hell are you talking about you insuffer-oh. Damn, and I had actually forgotten!" Arthur laughed manically, slapping his hand to his forehead and brushing back his unkempt hair. A heavy blush crept up on his face and he groaned. _Where is this damn woman? I need a drink._

As if on cue, Alfred's mother approached him and he was jerked from his thoughts. Arthur stretched his face into the sweetest smile he could muster and stood. He held out his hand only to find her fling her arms wide. _Dammit! Do I continue with the handshake or should I take the hug? Insufferable woman couldn't just take a handshake? Did she need a hug that badly? _The decision was quickly made when he felt his arm being crushed between the woman's breasts and arms wrapped around his body. Trying to shift his arm out of the bone crushing hug, he tapped her back with his palm as if in a friendly gesture.

"And how are you, Arthur? It feels as if it has been awhile." Alfred's mother released him from the hug as her brown curls tickled his face.

"I've been well, Ms. Jones. And you?" Arthur straightened his body and rested his hands at his side in hopes to act like a gentleman.

"Oh please! Call me Amy! I have been great! Just Monday morning I was on my way to work when the strangest thing happened and I just couldn't fathom it! So while I was on the subway-," Amy rambled to Arthur, who tried to get whisked away into his thoughts. After decidedly listening for three minutes (and Arthur had counted) he coughed to get her attention.

"Amy, would you like to go into that shop? It seems as if it has rather nice clothes for Alfred." Arthur pointed towards a store front that was adorned with mannequins in men's clothing.

"That looks splendid! Okay, let's go!" Amy dragged him to the store and Arthur cringed when the smell of cologne slammed down his throat. Arthur glanced around to find only a few people scattered around the store. "This is going to be a _long _day," Arthur mumbled.

-^J^-

Alfred slipped on his shades and shrugged on his suit jacket. Gazing down at his attire, Alfred smirked and stepped out of the shadows. Alfred knew that he would need this attire at some point. A blue pinstriped button up shirt hung around his frame with a few buttons loose at the top to expose his glimmering dog tags. A brown belt was pulled around his waist holding his black dress pants into place. And to finish it off, Alfred wore his polished dress shoes his mother had bought him years ago.

Alfred could feel the admiring stares directed towards him as he strolled past the onlookers. On the way, Alfred made sure to wink at a group of giggling cougars because as far as Alfred was concerned, age didn't matter. Finally making his way to the door, he stated his name and the men held the doors open for him. _Damn! I have never felt this badass before! Who knew I could be this awesome? Oh wait, I did. _

After asking around for the room number Alfred found himself standing in front of one of the suites. Swinging open the door he strutted into the lavish hotel room to find Feliks in a robe painting his toenails.

"Oh my god, you took for like ever to get here. I have been here so bored and you totally decided to be like a day late or something. However, you look so hot in that outfit. Like ouch hot you know? Looks like someone totally knows how to get brownie points." Feliks twisted the cap back onto the nail polish and patted the seat next to him. While Alfred moved to sit down, Feliks blew onto his toenails.

"Um, thanks. So what did you need, Feliks? I mean hanging out is cool and all I was just wondering if there was another reason?" Alfred asked, being sure to use careful wording as to not hurt the other man's feelings.

"Oh well okay. So, I got a call from the vogue magazine editor and he totally wants you and your hubby to like model for them. So I was like, 'uh-hum yeah!' and you have a photo shoot in a few days so yeah like be ready and stuff," Feliks finished, rubbing his nails to check if they were dry.

"O-kay. I guess we can do that, I mean photo-shoots can be pretty awesome! Oh, but why didn't you just tell me this on the phone?" Alfred asked, and pointed a look at Feliks who just brushed him off.

"Well, you need to like meet your partners you will be modeling with of course! I mean it's okay though cause your partner is like a totally popular model."

Alfred grimaced and turned to ask Feliks what he meant when he heard feet thump behind him. Alfred whipped around to lilac eyes and a chilling smile.

"So _great_ to see you again," the man chuckled.

"Agreed, _Ivan_," Alfred laughed coldly.

-^J^-

A/N: *Sighs* I love Russia. He's just so awesome.

And if you didn't know: Ivan=Russia

Anyways…Yep! Bye!


	8. Pesky Little Rivals

**Chapter 8: Pesky little rivals**

WARNINGS: Potty-mouth and maybe RusAme (depending on your views)

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Translations:

Podsolnechnik-Sunflower

-^J^-

Arthur could feel his legs strain under the weight of the bags Amy had loaded onto him. He and Amy had been shopping for hours before Amy insisted that she go get them a pretzel, regrettably leaving Arthur to carry all the bags. Arthur could only stare at her as she scurried off to the line of slobbery teenagers and grumpy parents to wait. Arthur pursed his lips and rested against the wall. Shutting his eyes for a few moments he reveled in the serene feeling that the darkness gave him.

He would have continued to do so had it not been for the image that burned into his eyelids. Alfred kissing him with those soft lips with that warmth pushing through them. And Arthur had _tried_ to shrug off the warmth it brought to his body when he thought of it. But now that damn heat was running up his spine again. Agitated, Arthur carried himself to a new store the bags pulling down at his arms as he struggled to get through the door. A worker hurried over to him and offered to put the bags by the register until he was done shopping. Arthur gratefully accepted and ignored the woman as she placed them by her in search for more clothes for Alfred.

Over the course of the next few minutes, Arthur had managed to trip over a fallen shirt, pause to shuffle through a few racks, and find _one _shirt that he actually wanted. After scrutinizing every shirt in the front of the store, he headed to the back to look at the high-end brands. Finally he had found it, the perfect shirt. The pattern on it was simple yet exotic and the cuffs were pinned with silver buttons. Arthur marveled over the shirt for the next few moments before a women coughed behind him.

"That's not Alfie's size, he's far too muscular to wear that! Would you like me to help you though? I'm out shopping for my fiancé right now," a soft voice spoke behind him.

Arthur whipped around to find a woman in her mid-20's. Her hair was pulled into a twisted bun with her legs hidden by a pencil skirt and a blouse tied around her curvy frame. Arthur grunted at her constant shifting. _Who is this woman and why in the __**hell**__ is she talking to me about 'Alfie's' size?_

"Um, I suppose that is alright. I'm Arthur Kirkland and you?" Arthur gestured a lazy hand out towards the woman who grinned at him.

"Oh! I'm sorry, I recognized you from the tabloids! I'm Ally Fields. Er-Alfred's ex-girlfriend, I actually was with him for about three years so we could've been husband and wife really," Ally paused, nervous to continue, "I d-didn't mean to interrupt you when you were looking it's just that I assumed that you didn't know Alfie's size because you didn't ever really seem like you two were friends before. Um-that is I mean to say that you just haven't gotten to know Alfie better yet!" Ally shifted on her feet again and clasped her hands in front of her.

_Excuse me? Husband and wife? Haven't gotten to know him yet? I'm pretty fucking sure I know enough about Alfred!_

"Well actually I already knew his size. I actually learned it recently while I fucked him into the mattress," Arthur cooed, smiling warmly at the girl. _This stupid woman, the nerve! Why do I feel the need to throttle her and strangle her in the dressing room? _ Arthur placed the shirt back onto the rack and continued to shuffle absentmindedly through them.

"Uh-well, I'm glad Alfred found someone to share his happiness with! Oh! I was wondering if maybe you guys would care to eat dinner with my fiancé and I? It truly has been a long time and I would love to see Alfie-uh-Alfred again! Plus it would be nice to hold a congratulatory dinner together, right?" Arthur took note of the flush in her cheeks but was soon distracted by the soft chimes of her voice.

"That sounds," Arthur paused, taking in the woman in front of him. Arthur bit into his cheek when she giggled behind her hand at his blank look. This woman was irritating him to no end! As if she knew more than him on any subject, much less Alfred! Arthur hadn't missed the challenging glint in her eyes when she mentioned the shirt. He also hadn't missed the shiver that ran down Ally's back when he mentioned the sex.

Arthur chuckled darkly in his head taking in the woman's meek performance. She was bloody good at acting like a damsel-in-distress. And-oh. That must have been why Alfred had been so fetched with the woman. Because she acted like a princess and his damn hero instincts kicked into full speed! God, what an idiot! Well, he was most certainly not going to let some flowery princess parade around him and treat _him _like the fool!

"That sounds delightful. And where and when you like to meet?" Arthur cleared his throat as the woman gave him the directions and jotted them down into his phone.

"Well, it was quite a pleasure to meet you! I can't wait to see you and Alfred tomorrow! Bye!" And with that, the woman stepped over to the register and began chatting up the worker.

Arthur heaved the bags back onto his arms and walked out of the store, completely hell-bent on destroying the woman with his bare hands. Amy jumped in front of him with two pretzels held in her hands.

"Sorry it took so long Arthur dear. So, are you ready to go?" Amy asked, shuffling a few bags into her arms and handing a pretzel to him.

"Absolutely, Amy. I'll drive you home if you would like." Arthur begrudgingly linked arms with Amy and they strolled towards the parking lot.

-^J^-

"Ivan."

"Alfred."

"Ivan."

"Alfred."

Feliks moaned at the two men in front of him. Ivan had long plopped down on the love seat across from Alfred and Feliks had expected a pleasant conversation and talk of the photoshoot. Not _this._

"Okay so this like has gone on e-nough! What compels you to greet each other like over and over again? It's been like three minutes of you two saying the same thing! Stop it! It's driving me totally crazy! Like isn't there anything else you need to say to each other? What are you two, like an old married couple or something?" Feliks threw his hands throughout his rant, glaring at the men and raising a blow-dryer up to them in shooting stance.

"I have nothing to say to him." Alfred bared his teeth in an animalistic behavior and pushed his sunglasses up on his forehead.

"And neither do I," the heavy accent replied from across him, arms crossed and chin tilting up as if to show the American up.

"Stop that!" Alfred growled, sliding his feet onto the floor only to slam his hands on the coffee table.

"Stop what?" The Russian smirked and placed his hands on the table leaning towards Alfred.

Feliks popped the cork off a wine bottle and poured some in a glass on the table. Glancing at the red wine settling in the glass, Feliks groaned and took a swig from the bottle.

"Okay. Feliks? I'll still do the photo-shoot. And I suppose-," Alfred paused, "I could do it with _this." _He gestured to Ivan, who simply cocked his head to the side.

"Da. I will also do the photo-shoot still. This will be fun right, podsolnechnik?" Ivan ruffled Alfred's hair and strutted out the door, scarf billowing behind him.

"Hey! Wai-what the hell does that mean? Don't fucking walk away from me you-," Alfred rambled, hurrying out the door after the snickering Russian.

Feliks laid on the couch, his toes wiggling with his faithful wine bottle still resting on the coffee table.

-^J^-

That night, Arthur and Alfred were settled in bed with thoughts weighing on their minds. Alfred pulled the blanket up to his chin and glanced at Arthur.

"Hey, Arthur?"

Arthur was jolted out of his thoughts and shifted on his side to stare at the man.

"Yes?" Arthur truly hoped whatever it was would give Arthur an opening to tell Alfred about the surprise dinner tomorrow. After all, how does one bring up an ex-girlfriend? Arthur paled at the idea of mentioning it now.

"There's a photo-shoot in a few days and Feliks wants us to do it. It's for Vogue so it would help you get more popular but," Alfred trailed off and gazed up at the ceiling.

"But?"

"But we have to take some pictures with some models. I just wanted to let you know about it. I mean your partner is pretty cool so it should be fine!" Alfred forced a chuckle out and scratched his neck.

"What about your partner?" Arthur honestly had no care as to who Alfred's partner was, just as long as it wasn't-_Ally. _Arthur felt a growl tickling up his throat and resisted letting it out.

Alfred simply sighed and gave Arthur a 'trust me you don't want to know' look. Arthur chose to not question it because if it had been Ally, Alfred would have wailed. And he hadn't-so it was fine.

"Okay then. Alfred, I have something important to tell you too." Arthur could feel the temperature in the room drop when his throat got dry.

"Yeah?"

"I-uh-I bought you many new clothes today! They were very nice and this is not what I am trying to say." Now Arthur trailed off into an incoherent mumbling frenzy.

"Dude you okay?"

"Alright, Alfred let me give you a scenario," Arthur exclaimed, ignoring the American's question, "What if-um-Matthew got married to Mathias and left his previous boyfriend." Arthur paused to make sure that Alfred understood and then continued, "Well, let's say that this 'previous boyfriend' had provoked Mathias. And Mathias had accepted to a dinner invitation from said boyfriend-," Arthur was cut off by Alfred.

"So, Mathias accepted being hit on by Mattie's previous boyfriend. Yeah, this isn't making any sense. I'm extremely confused," Alfred blinked at the man in front of him, smiling brightly as if to ease the glare on the other man's face.

"You insufferable oaf! Fine. I accepted an invitation from Ally and I promised her that tomorrow at 7:30 pm _both_ of us would meet her and her fiancé for dinner. Do _not_ ask me how we met and do _not_ ask me why I accepted. I would not want to confuse you after all." Arthur huffed and twisted around to face the other direction. Minutes ticked by of silence and Arthur grew fearful the man had passed out. Turning his body back as if he were asleep, he grumbled and peeled an eye open.

Alfred blankly stared at the wall behind Arthur for a few moments before his face contorted into confusion with a shadow of sadness behind his eyes.

"W-what?"

Arthur shuffled closer to the man and pressed his arms against Alfred's chest. He leaned his head onto them and glanced up at Alfred.

"Alfred, I'm-," Arthur coughed, "I suppose I am a little sorry about accepting it without considering your feelings."

Alfred brushed his own feelings aside with a chuckle and smiled down at the British man.

"Nah, it's cool. It shouldn't be too bad, right? And I'm sure you had your reasons."

Arthur could feel the heavy weight on Alfred's shoulders and was slightly pained to see him trying to mask his sadness with a smile. And yet, Arthur could only shut his eyes and allow the darkness to envelop him.

-^J^-

Translations:

Podsolnechnik-Sunflower

So yeah. R&R If you would! It would make me a giggly schoolgirl. And everyone loves a giggling schoolgirl. I mean look at Poland! :D


	9. A Date With Destiny

**Chapter 9: A date with destiny**

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

-^J^-

"Arthur, I'm going to run to the restroom. You can find our table. Okay? I'll be back," Alfred stated and slugged off to the bathroom.

Arthur and Alfred had made it to the restaurant ten minutes earlier than the meeting time and so far, Arthur dully noted, Alfred has run to the bathroom three times. Not only that but he always came back with a stronger smelling cologne dabbed on his neck and his wheat colored hair brushed to the side.

Alfred could not make it more obvious that he still cared for the girl. And with this thought in mind, Arthur realized if Alfred kept running to the bathroom he was going to strangle him.

Arthur was led to their table and chatted with the server for a moment before resting his head on the wall. Glaring at his watch he turned towards the door to find _it _waving back at him and tapping towards their table, fiancé in tow.

Blinking at the two as they scooted into the opposite booth Arthur saw a look of confusion pass Ally's face.

"Restroom. So, how are you both? Forgive me, I'm Arthur Kirkland." Arthur stretched out a hand towards the thin man across the table who shook it softly in return.

"Randolf Oskar. You may call me Randy if you like. We've been good, working on preparations for our wedding. How are you?" Randy grinned at Arthur and slung his arm around Ally's shoulders. Ally smiled at that and bumped her shoulder into him playfully.

"Honey, you don't need to do that. Honestly," Ally giggled and pushed his hand off our shoulder only to turn and smile at Arthur. "I'm sorry; this boy can just get so lovey-dovey!"

"Oh-hoh. Really?" Arthur churned out with fake enthusiasm, resting his head on his hands and blinking wildly at the woman across from him.

Minutes passed before the two grew bored of Arthur and began talking amongst themselves.

Arthur had yet to fathom where the American had gone. Seven minutes have already ticked by with no sign of the boy. Did he fear this woman that much? Arthur could honestly say that he couldn't understand what was so captivating about the dark haired woman across from him. Perhaps every man wanted to be a hero? Perhaps-Perhaps Arthur should let Alfred be _his _hero sometimes? Arthur grunted behind his hand and glanced back at the couple.

As the two lovebirds hit each other and flirted, Arthur swept his eyes across the restaurant to find Alfred returning to them with a hesitant grin swallowing up his face. Thank God the boy hadn't skipped town with how things have been going lately.

_You can do this! _The two men thought as they greeted one another with a wave.

"Hello love," Arthur cooed and brushed his palm over Alfred's shoulder, scooting over to allow him some space on the booth.

"Hey Artie."

Arthur could have torn off his clothes and danced on the table at the nickname Alfred gave him. Oh this _was_ going to be fun. And the ex-girlfriend had suddenly pushed away Randy and was staring down Alfred!

"H-hey Alfred." Ally stared down the table and smiled while twirling a finger around her bangs.

"Hey Fields," Alfred replied nonchalantly, waving a hand towards her.

Arthur could kiss this man right now! Calling her by her last name and even going so far as not to grin at her like a lovesick fool. Arthur could admit he was proud of Alfred for being so tactical. Though he highly doubted Alfred even knew what 'tactical' meant. But to see the dejected look shoot across Ally's face made Arthur feel like a king and he loved it!

After they placed their orders, Arthur nudged Alfred to face him and situated his tie.

"Here love let me fix that for you." Alfred choked back a blush at the intimate gesture and thanked Arthur. Glancing over at Ally to find her glaring at Alfred's tie, Arthur began running his slim fingers down Alfred's torso as if brushing down the wrinkles. Arthur had even begun to lightly tug on the lapels of his jacket before turning back in his seat.

Then, with much pleasure, Ally had begun to do the same with Randy. And it would have been a challenge in Arthur's eyes had it not been for Randy trying to smack her hands off his clothes. Arthur bit back a laugh at the cross look Ally sent towards Randy.

Alfred was shocked by the treatment he was getting. Arthur had been considerate of him as of late and it touched Alfred. Though he would never admit it to a soul considering how 'touchy' feelings and men didn't mix well. But watching the man adjust his tie for him and then later straighten his clothes, Alfred couldn't decide if he felt like a husband leaving for work or a son off to school. Either way, Alfred was interested in this newfound affection Arthur was giving him. Whether he had a change of heart or was faking it didn't matter to Alfred. All that mattered was that he was making Alfred feel _warm. _And Alfred was basking in this feeling that he has never encountered in his life, the feeling of lovin-_liking _someone. As a friend. Or enemy. Alfred wasn't sure as to what their relationship was but Francis be damned if Alfred wasn't enjoying it a little bit. _Just a little bit. _

After Arthur and Ally had chatted for a while and Randy and Alfred sized each other up the food arrived. In the second that the waiter had drifted off to the other tables, all conversation was cut off and the only sounds were the clinking of ice and forks poking at plates. Arthur, deciding to savor his food unlike his American companion, glanced over at the other couple. Randy was shoveling mashed potatoes into a pile on his steak and Arthur resisted cringing at his concoction when it was finished. Ally on the other hand was only poking at her steak and repeatedly glancing up at Alfred with adoration. And so, Arthur, whom in many conversations rarely spoke a word, tapped Alfred on the shoulder.

"Yeah, Artie?"

"Alfie," Arthur paused for effect, "do you suppose we could do something tomorrow? Like go to the aquarium or," Arthur trailed off and peered down at his lap as if making a decision. Finally, he leaned up and brushed his lips against Alfred's ear, "stay in bed all day?" The breathy laugh tickled Alfred's ear and it was not missed by anyone at the table.

Randy was the first to pipe up with a wolf whistle and a 'somebody's getting laid' comment which Arthur ignored in favor for resting his forehead against Alfred's. What Arthur hadn't ignored was the red bubbling up onto Ally's features. Nor the glowing blue eyes peering into his own in confusion. Now Arthur was confused. Wasn't Alfred and him supposed to act as lovers? Why did Alfred look so shocked? This was part of the plan that they had agreed on when Alfred first sat down at the table.

Alfred had _tried _to pull a seductive smirk towards the British man's comment but it was growing exceedingly difficult. And as much as Alfred hated it, he could admit that it wasn't the only _thing _growing. So all he could do was stare into those deep green eyes and try not to pull Arthur under the table for a quickie. Alfred would admit that lust was clouding his mind but he was a young man and these things happened to the best of them. Or so he convinced himself. And so, he settled for the only action he could take at that moment. And with that, Alfred pressed his lips against Arthur's.

_Now _Arthur was shocked. Those same lips he recognized as kissing him goodbye were once again moving against his softly. And damn the warmth that exuded from them was trailing down his body like rapids. Arthur felt his eyelids drop and he balled his hands into fists to resist carding his fingers through those sunny blond locks. Arthur couldn't see the reaction from Ally and honestly he really didn't give a damn. Not when that heat made his heart flutter and his legs sink from under him. And just as soon as those lips had pushed against his they were gone. Arthur choked back a whimper and swallowed to return to eating his meal silently.

"Well now maybe I should go find a guy if it feels that good," Randy joked before Ally smacked his shoulder. Alfred was pulled out of his stupor and laughed wholeheartedly, forgetting his current 'situation' taking place under the table.

"Don't knock it till you try it, right?" Alfred replied and shrugged his shoulders, disregarding the way Ally's eyes widened slightly and jaw dropped at his comment.

Randy coughed and commented about coke going down the wrong pipe before chuckling and slamming his hand on the table.

"I wonder what it would be like if it was like three guys-," and Arthur chose to tune out the rest of the conversation and rub his temples at the dirty epiphanies exchanged between the two men. Next to Ally and Arthur gasping at the observations of their lovers' discussion and the other two chuckling loudly the rest of the dinner was quiet.

When the sun had long gone to sleep, Alfred and Arthur slid off their seat and walked with the other couple to the door. They exchanged polite handshakes and a _far_ too long hug from Ally to Alfred before heading back home. That was after Alfred made sure to exchange numbers with Randy so they could catch up later. Arthur assured Alfred that he probably wouldn't ever be able to join them because he would be far too busy. The rest of the car ride was silent except for the hushed voices on the radio and Alfred humming to himself.

When they returned home, Arthur found that the previous kiss had re-entered his conscious and was now making his evening with Alfred _painfully _awkward. And so Arthur did the sensible thing and decided to head off to bed. As the two of them once again settled into bed (after Alfred decided he had to piss) they turned away from each other and willed their minds to quit cluttering with thoughts. Alfred, finally coming to the conclusion that he would be up for hours, turned towards Arthur in hopes that he may sleep more comfortably. Arthur had heard him shift and hurriedly shut his eyes and calmed his breathing. _Please don't mention the kiss! Please don't mention the kiss!_ Arthur continued the mantra in his head, not catching Alfred peering at his face.

Alfred sighed in relief, the damn Brit had fallen asleep which meant that Alfred could later pass this off as his natural tendencies and not one of choice. Shuffling closer to the man, he draped an arm around the smaller man and rested his chin on the shaggy hair. Arthur tensed slightly and felt his arms stiffen under the touch. If he moved, Alfred may pull away. But if he stayed, Alfred may keep cuddling him. And Arthur could not tell which his mind wanted so he decided to just stay as he was. And if asked, that would be the _only _reason Arthur hadn't moved. There was no other reason.

The next few days passed quickly with Arthur and Alfred warming up to each other once again, the kiss a thing of the past and a known taboo subject among them. After a glorious trip to the grocery store of Alfred insisting that they buy six boxes of sugar coated cereal and copious amounts of junk food, the two found themselves driving to the studio. Feliks had sent Alfred the directions days ago and luckily for him the GPS actually knew where to go this time. Pulling into the parking garage, Alfred whisked the door open for Arthur and the two made their way to their photo-shoot. While Arthur mulled over the idea of what his secret partner was going to be like, Alfred felt his body tighten at the idea of seeing his _partner _again.

-^J^-

Ta-ta!


End file.
